From Backyards to Existential Crises

When I was younger, I used to have a rowing boat that I’d love to row the ditches of my small town with. Now, the Netherlands is a tiny country and there isn’t much open space, so every ditch neighboured people’s backyards. By rowing, I could see straight into those. It’d usually be sunny weekend days when I took my rowing boat out, so most people would have the doors to their backyards open and by rowing past, I could get a sneak peek into their lives you just can’t get when you’re walking past the front of a house on the street.

As strange as this may sound, those sneak peeks kind of triggered my first existential crises for me.

Seeing what other people did on the weekend, and seeing so many backyards back to back with different people in all of them, making plans for a barbecue that night, or throwing toys at their dogs, drinking a beer with friends or just sleeping and tanning in the sun, overwhelmed me, just like grocery stores overwhelm me now. It made me realise that I’m just a tiny tiny little part of the seven billion people that inhabit this world. Everyone has a story, everyone has something on their mind, everyone has a routine; the parts I saw of people’s days looking at them from my rowing boat were probably some of the happiest times of their week, and it scared me, for a reason I still to this day cannot put my finger on.

To me, there’s just something terrifying about the fact that I’m not important, not at all, not really; and the fact that everyone has a routine – of going to school or work, getting home and having free time, knowing they’ll have to go back to school or work again the next day – that they’ll follow until they die.

Being on that boat made me feel like the world would be fine without me, and being on that boat made me think that the things I saw adults do in their free time were probably what my future would look like as well, and it all seemed so… pointless?

I’ve written a blog post before about how I don’t like sundays, and this kind of correlates with that. Those boat days, summer days, weekend days, made me feel very aimless and lonely.

After rain comes sunshine. But the problem is, that after sunshine, comes rain again…




(sorry for this post, i know it’s not interesting, i just needed to write it down somewhere)


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