Fola’s Head is a Mess

It has been six months—six months of abandoning you, you who love to read what I write. It’s 2:30 am on Monday, June 24th, and you’ll probably wake up to a mail from “Fola” and wonder why you’re getting this mail. You’ve probably forgotten you were subscribed to a Fola, rightfully so. Fola dropped her pen.

Have you ever found total accomplishment without longing for more? I’ve been thinking: who are we really, behind our clothes, aside from our wealth or lack thereof, beneath our outward smiles, frowns, or passiveness? Who are we really? When you’re naked, standing in front of your reflection, what are we really? So many questions.

Behind our clothes, do we see a flaw in our bodies that we so desperately want to change? We harbor disdain for these flaws, but once clothes are put on, we try to convince ourselves and the world that we’re confident. When you have all the wealth, when you’re alone in a place deep where your money doesn’t matter, who are we really?

Fola’s head is a mess. It’s been a myriad of thoughts and chaos. How do we journey to find ourselves, to find true satisfaction and peace? Not the kind that love or money gives, but the kind that makes you be at one with the true purpose of being. What is the true purpose of being?

Fola’s messy head doesn’t think it’s chasing love, power, money, religion, or other things society ties our worth to as humans. To Fola, the true purpose of being is simply to exist. Nothing else, nothing less or more matters. The true purpose of being human is to exist, to be, and to make more humans. How far you choose to exist is solely your own personal purpose, or we can blame society’s design. How convenient.

You might wonder why I’m yapping. For the past six months, I’ve not had clarity. I’ve wondered what I really want to do. I work multiple jobs, but I do not find the peace I seek in working, making money, or wearing nice things—not even in my appearance. I longed to know what I find peace in, and then it struck me: maybe the world is just the world, and I am the one stressing myself by wanting to feel accomplished when I could just simply exist. Who said we must search for the things society has designed for us?

I love the beach so much, so very much. I love the waters being content simply existing, flowing and doing their thing, going with the wind. I love nature, love seeing trees being content with simply existing, and love seeing animals simply just exist and do the most dutiful task of existing.

I’ll probably like the “dark ages,” but it’s quite ironic because this era is the real dark age. Despite our advancements, we are more lost than ever, chasing after things that do not fulfill us. Perhaps in accepting the simplicity of existence, we can find the peace and clarity we so desperately seek.