March 29

     I have come to realize that there are moments when I am consumed by guilt. A guilt of being unworthy of whatever good has come my way. 

    I feel it every time. It's there when I sit with a book; or when I buy something as simple as a bar of chocolate. Like I do not deserve even the simpler things, simple pleasures life has to offer like I am someone who isn't worthy of dreaming big. That in the grand scheme of the universe, I am but a speck of dust, insignificant, who at best could be of use only when one with the soil. 

    And then why do I feel this? Because sometimes, the weight of what is expected from me sits heavily on my shoulders and with it, there's a reminder of how often I have fallen short of those. 

    But just when these thoughts are consuming me that I become conscious of a voice, subdued, almost forced silent, that chants quietly:

'You are enough. You did your best. You'll do your best. It's not the end. You are enough.'