i must not live for myself again.

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I think I’ve found one of those endless answers for my malaise. It does not solve everything, yet before I sleep, I ponder upon the notion that the only way to truly live now is to be of endless and eternal service.

I felt so lost for I didn’t find myself in anything I did anymore. The only thing that keeps me going is the simple hope that I could meet another’s soul and smile in their eyes, seeing them, serving them, loving them.


What if this is what I need to do feel again? Let go my life to one of devoted selflessness and service. What if the only way to feel at home is to melt into another’s heart and see what they truly need to find fulfilment?


Oh, I rest now in the comfort of knowing I don’t need comfort. I don’t need the self-care. I don’t need the boundaries of service. It is an eternal mission— exhausting, colour-draining and intense. It is silent and messy. Just look into my eye after a sleepless night on which I met the love of selflessness, you might find a trace of beauty behind the exhaustion.


You might find what I was born to be: of timeless service.

going with grace in an inscrutable world.

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