at some point, i wonder if we stop living for ourselves without even noticing. or did we even start living for ourselves in the first place? maybe it happened in the pursuit of something - perhaps a version of me i thought i had to become. but i guess we’ll never know; and that “something” might just pass right by you. do we just keep moving forward because stopping to question it feels harder than continuing on? guess we’ll never know. staying true to yourself is somewhat of a moving goalpost. and on some days, you feel alienated by your own self // dump 057
