“The years between eighteen and twenty-eight are the hardest, psychologically. It’s then you realize this is make or break, you no longer have the excuse of youth, and it is time to become an adult – but you are not ready.”
“So much of what we live goes on inside–
The diaries of grief, the tongue-tied aches
Of unacknowledged love are no less real
For having passed unsaid. What we conceal
Is always more than what we dare confide.
Think of the letters that we write our dead.”
3 days of zero blogging – even Google XML whatever won’t notice that. Despite my all-time laziness, I brace myself and am typing away, because I’m a strong and committed being.
This overwhelming laziness is largely driven by the thought of having to join my friend in a 1/4 marathon this weekend. Dreading it like nobody’s business. What fun do they get from this endless running? And paying for a flight ticket merely to join the marathon – people are out of their tiny minds.
I don’t care what causes they are running for; it’s simply an irrationally commercial thing that people do as a group. I curse conformity and everything to do with the mass.
Pardon my violence. It’s PMS, I blame. There was a major outburst and many minor ones at home yesterday. Frustrated, I had multiple naps with my butt facing up.
I need to get in that position again real soon.
Wanna run away from the rest of the world, as long as it’s less than the distance of a full marathon.
For no reason.
Or maybe there are reasons.
Earlier, I came across this in my feeds:
That’s all it takes to make me moody and emo. I’m not even in any type of pain, except for all the bloody body aches from workout. My rib cage is slowly falling apart and into pieces as I speak…. no, type. And it’s one of those days I groaned as I removed my clothing going into shower. Between emotional pain and this, you’d rather have hurting rib cage and inner thighs all year. But life always give you more than what you ask for – that’s why you end up having both emotional and body pain. This is not a curse. This is reality, the present. Which is why we call it the gift of god (hereinafter “God” refers to gods of all religions). Politically correct. Too correct.
Now I see where the “You need to be more……sincere” comment during my year-end review is coming from. To be fair, this is quite an unconventional feedback. More than 98.4% of the global working population will never ever get this comment in their entire career lifespan.
I want to sleep.