For the third time in my life I’m going through a phase where I’m obsessed with history. As someone who loves stories, there’s something magical about the past. It’s a strange combination of fantasy and reality: the past is almost like another world, but parts of it still live on; in art, in descendants, in nature.

I wonder about my own legacy. I spend a lot of time accomplishing goals and taking steps towards big dreams. That leaves little time for me to document anything. I barely even give myself enough time to enjoy big moments. People have been telling me they are proud of me for things I hardly remember.

In the past few months I have started a company, hired my first employees, been part of an official musical production, written one of the best songs I’ve ever written, designed my first billboards, gotten huge clients on my own. I only remember not sleeping and being stressed.

Looking around me I see bloggers and vloggers everywhere, living even bigger lives than I, and somehow managing to capture it all. Should I be doing that too? What qualifies as a life worth remembering? A life that goes down in history? This feeling that my story is worth telling, is it the truth, or am I just a narcissistic millennial?

I write this to ask who else is feeling this? Because I strive for a full and rich life, the pressure I put on myself is letting everything just pass me by. There’s no conclusion here, I’m still figuring it out.