I've literally ascribed moments of melancholy to the idea that I don't know if I have a story to tell. I've said that out loud to people.
What if...what if I'm not supposed to have a story? What if just existing is enough? Is that a kind of freedom?
Or does Narrative guide one to purpose/meaning?
I've literally ascribed moments of melancholy to the idea that I don't know if I have a story to tell. I've said that out loud to people.
What if...what if I'm not supposed to have a story? What if just existing is enough? Is that a kind of freedom?
Or does Narrative guide one to purpose/meaning?