Drove out to a dirt road beside a farmer's field 20 minutes outside of the city. Turned my car off. Sat there is silence, darkness, looking up at the stars and the airplane lights blinking as they pass by. I think I am trying too hard to be someone who I already am. I didn't buy a guitar today cus it's cliche. I write and maybe that's good enough for now. I feel like I am trying to chase rabbits down rabbit-holes, or grasp pieces of papers caught in an updraft. A part of me believes that I know myself very well, another doesn't and tries to seek ways to find identity. I don't want to be a cliche, I don't want to be someone who is trying too hard to prove someone. I want to be different.
My fear is that it has all been done before. That what I contribute doesn't have any significance. That it doesn't touch people. I think I write for other people. Write so I can connect with them. To make them feel what I feel. That is success to me. But I trip over words, and have a hard time trying to communicate what I am trying to get across. People have causes (especially INFPs self-develop through meaningful action, and being a part of something that matters), I think my cause is to move others. To make them feel deeply, reflect and grow. To shake them up from the shallow perverse juvenile society we live in, and truly feel something that fundamentally connects all human beings.