i wrote this in my notebook in timor...not sure if i still feel this way.

My critical and analytical self is being (mis)directed by the person that I am at this juncture in life, at 25 years. At this place in time, I am confused, cynical, and questioning of everything I have ever known or believed. I am no longer patient enough to preach peace, or have the energy to build hope from the ground up. It’s not a matter of arrogance—for it’s not that I think I know better. I don’t, and that’s precisely why I just don’t feel very hopeful about the course of world events. Or perhaps I unconsciously refuse to believe so I wouldn’t get hurt as much.