What is truth?
Translated with AI
When I acted lazy as a kid, my mom used to say, "Work hard, or you'll end up pushing a street cart."
When I was really small, it didn’t bother me much. What’s so wrong about pushing a cart, anyway? But as I grew up, I started feeling scared—who would respect me? For me, respect started to feel more valuable than money. Years passed, and I kept looking for ways to earn respect. I did find one or two. Maybe I’m on one of those paths today.
But when I look at myself in the mirror now, it feels strange. My mind keeps asking me, “Do you really want to do this work?” Really? What does “really” even mean? How can I be completely sure this is what I want to do? Honestly, I don’t want to do anything! I mean, deep down, I’m still lazy. Just because I’ve wrapped myself in a blanket of fear—does that really change who I am?
We keep searching for motivation before doing anything. Motivation means a reason, a spark, an inspiration—but not a need. So what’s our real need? Nothing. And without that, we won’t act. So we create fake needs— “I’ve wanted to do this since childhood,” or “When I imagine myself, I see myself doing this.” Amazing! Look, if you genuinely enjoy imagining yourself working, there’s probably something off in your brain. In reality, the only person who works is the one who has to. The one whose need is real.
As for me—I haven’t been able to connect myself with any work. Maybe because I had all the basic comforts at home, or because no one ever really forced me. I see myself just the way I am: a troubled person. I’m troubled by the fact that even after thousands of years, humanity still hasn’t figured out what it actually wants. I’m troubled that in our search for answers, we’ve caused so much chaos—who’s going to fix that?
Being troubled is common, but staying that way—isn’t right. But I’m stuck in it.
At just twenty years old, I don’t know what kind of trap I’ve fallen into. No matter what I do, I find myself in the same place. A troubled person.
I once heard someone say: question everything, only then will you understand the truth. I did. I still do. I’m surrounded by questions all the time. It feels like all the doors in my mind are open, but the truth is nowhere to be found. In breaking all the chains, the questions themselves have become my chains. You know what I use to escape all this? Lies. That’s the only truth I have. And today, as I lock one more link of this chain onto myself, I ask you: What is your truth?
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