When was the last time you felt like you just don't have the stomach for everything? There are no sparks, and no coffee or energy drink can save you, and yet you just continue anyway.
I feel comfortable in starting my days doing the exact same routine.
- 5:00 Wake up
- 6:00 Go to Mass
- 7:00 Breakfast
- 8:00 Attend Review Class
- 12:00 Lunch
- 12:30 Start Studying
- 4:00 Short Break
- 4:15 Resume Studying
- 8:00 Dinner
Afterwards, I read my emails, check blogs and read a book until I fall asleep... But I could hardly sleep, at the end of the day, all I could think of is how much I hate my routine and why I'd rather feel indifferent than feel pervasively defeated.
There's a scummy thing about life, particularly about trying to be an adult, that makes you both love and loathe one and the same thing.
I love being ambitious but I hate pressuring myself so much. I love being diligent but I hate being insincere at times. I love how I can effortlessly focus when I start one thing but I hate ignoring other things along the way. I love rewarding myself but I hate that feeling of selfishness that comes with it. I love appreciating even the smallest of things but I hate being so easily overwhelmed. I love being productive but I hate being too preoccupied.
I feel confused, as if there's this itch I just couldn't scratch. I ask myself, how come it's so hard to locate that thin line that separates these issues and scenarios? and why does the society think that we're supposed to figure it out on our own?
I love putting all my feelings here, but then again, I hate whining. I'm not sure if these are real emotions or if I'm just incredibly tired. In Stephen Chbosky's words thru Charlie, this is the part where he'd say, "And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be."
So, still, cheers to life and how sublime are its tangles and bemusement!