I wonder if everyone finds themselves comparable to a rat running in circles, hoping to move forward, always falling back, committing the same mistakes and ending up at square one over and over again. The rat thinks that it's attempts are important, but the truth is, it's wasting it's time and energy on something pointless that doesn't make a difference to even itself, forget the rest of the world outside it's tiny cage.
I know it's happening to me; indeed I've been through this before. I've repeatedly promised myself that it would be different at the subsequent juncture, and like always, I don't know why I thought that this time would be something special. I now have the familiar lurking, sinking feeling of failure and disappointment in myself; the feeling that I'm repeatedly told to ignore every time I voice it. Promises of the power of optimism really have gotten old by now. Sometimes, positivity is a redundant dead weight that just makes an unanticipated fall even harder. I'd rather carry a parachute around than regret when I land on the hard ground from a height of twenty stories and break open like a splotched tomato.
In regard to the crossroads I've been standing at for over a year now, I suddenly have begin to wonder if I would choose pleasant lazy mornings followed by quiet tea in the afternoons, or a lifestyle of danger and adventure with no time to spare. I never would have pegged myself as someone who had to give it a second thought before choosing the latter, but that's who I've turned into.
"Accepting your mediocrity is the simplest pathway to peace"-- now there's a quote you'll never find anywhere. So uninspiring, right? But isn't it true? And why must we always push ourselves for more? Why not be content with moderation and comfort?
Despite everything, I do believe that beyond this total lack of motivation, there still lies the real me, the girl who would never settle for lackluster ambitions or a humdrum lifestyle. I sincerely hope I can keep her alive over the next few days.
Here goes nothing!
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