.of hopeless emptiness and getting better at lying
There are days that I am struggling to articulate and verbalize my own reasoning. There are moments when I am distressed, withholding revere towards those I love – not that I am conceited – but more of terrified that it may be excruciatingly pointless. And I am well assured it won’t be pointless.
I can feel that I am ingrained, meandering through an unsurprising, definite path. I wish I can get myself off the gyration, enthusiastically leaping into the pursuit of bewildering repute. I have dreams, and as opposed to societal conviction of signing away for those next in line (or anybody else seems much more important), I want them in it. I want them to be the essential capacity of my dreams, accomplished.
Realignment, as what
people we said.
But it is all formidable being known as an excellent planner, but a very primitive executor. I guess this was the main determinant of all sudden and mortifying disappointments in my immediate past, and even after years, I still have no idea how to tame it.
I must say that now, everything is in vain. And to satisfy myself, I need time. Suddenly time ticks so fast I wished I could slow it down. I don’t think I have much allotted span left. I must execute. I must calling the shots, every time. I cannot ceased to retain another second, abusing it with wrath and rage. I must regain composure, get a grip and start enkindling happiness.
Wish of the day: Beach.