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.



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