Lately I have been thinking a lot about the way I live. I have a system of doing things at certain times. I'm rarely home, my paycheck are decreasing and I have little to show for it. I believe it to be this way because I have grown complacent in my current way of living. Like a domesticated animal. I have a great deal of thoughts on ways to better myself but then the feeling that if I tried to change, it would ruin everything comes on. It chases my motivation away, so I sit still and wait for the next part of the day to begin.
I say things, in a clever way I'm perceptive. I'm wise enough to see the ends the actions I will commit will create and still I do and don't certain things. Why do I scream silently in bed if I find this way of living so comforting.
I think it's because years ago I said I would be a great so and so, now I'm nothing but myself. No success to have pride in, no achievements besides that I've tried the assurance of my fathers money for Daniel's. It's an off the cusp thought that I try to justify with all the sacrifices I made when I was twenty four, now at twenty seven I find myself in a role reversal. I squint at myself in photos and can see creases and lines in my face that weren't there before. I slap myself out of depression by keeping my hands to myself. You'd be surprised how many people find failure, attractive. I smile and choose to ignore it the way you ignore sun on your skin or a lie told terribly to you.
It's now or never my mind says, so I begin a regimen of cleaning products. I walk miles and jog a few. I attempt to restructure my days with the free time that working only twenty hours a week gives. I've even started looking for a second job.
Now if I can get all my fantasies down on paper and create novels of them.
We will see, won't we.