Resignation

Hi,

I've been trying to write a letter these past few months, but no words seem fitting of all the things I feel inside. Sometimes, there is shouting, other days it's meek and silent, but most of the time, it longs for peace. I've been a firm believer that the world doesn't need "world peace" but rather a universal empathy. I got the idea during my second year in college, while learning Kant in Philosophy. The peace of one may never be the peace of others, so we rely on the greater empathy for others. 

One of my primary principle for writing: Empathy. In Merriam Webster:

Noun

em· pa· thy | \ ˈem-pə-thē 

The action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner.

I have never loved a word as much as this. 

During my younger days, there is utter enjoyment of relating to the characters of the book I am reading, or best, with people in real life. Internalizing all of them, until it becomes part of me. I thought it was a super power to have vast imagination and clear grasp of people's feelings. Because by then, I could write a lot of things. 

I never thought I would live to this day, when all the things I once loved and once was my own super power, no longer excites me. 

I dread feeling things. 

Though, how I much I long to shutdown the world around me - with my job that does not seem to know how to rest, even in the middle of a pandemic. The pandemic that seems to affect so much of me - the incompetence, the poor and hungry, the less privileged, the dying and the families of the dying. Who knows what they feel. But, how could I? 

I am so tired. My job's expectations, how I could never say, that I've been trying my best, but my work will never be perfectly finished. How could I?

This is when I realized that my belief was right all along; To be able to earn my peace. Others must suffer. So we keep on shutting down our feelings, to satisfy the hustle culture, until it is no longer bearable. Until, we could only hold on to what's left of us - how do we apologize to ourselves, for all the things we did not become?

Who the fvck made us believe, that we could only be deserving of all the good things in this world, if we keep on working hard? With a broken system, how will you say, it's the only choice?

We do not need a dose of positivism, or things that sugar coat the pain. I cannot do it anymore. But, there are no words seem fitting to all the things I feel inside. 

If there is empathy, why do we always have to ask for peace? 

Keep safe,

Patricia