And then, In the next moment
I feel like I am not doing enough
Possessed by my inner idealist;
Frantically, dividing the parts that make me whole
Running a distribution of my many talents
To cater for the spaces that need filling,
And then, in the next moment
It simply feels futile,
Living every day with burnout, for what?
A result of giving too much, no change,
Thinning patience, I am not a saviour;
It is not my job,
I question the point of fighting
For a people not willing to fight for themselves.
And then, In the next moment
I feel like I am not doing enough …
– O.D. ©2018
Art by: yuumei
I realise it is not my job to save the world, but whenever I think of the little I can do to bring some form of change; I am always driven to give more.
When I do help, I am never really expecting any form of compensation. Yes, recognition is nice, but it can only get you so far. In fact, I find myself being evasive of compliments these days; lingering on praise stifles my creativity significantly.
This loop brings about a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts; I usually, if not always become a hybrid of what I am fighting against. Perhaps in being even more aware of this, it can change.
