I'm openly welcoming failure into my life. I'm goading it. And I'm doing nothing to close the permanent pathways it has managed to build over the past few years.
Failure.
I shouldn't be like this.
I fell asleep instead of studying for a math long exam two day from now. And probably a physics seat work.
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Also, as if I don't feel very unattractive to anyone, my old crush, Ralph, liked a gorgeous girl's picture. Because I guess he's the kind of person who likes popular girls' pictures.
He did once like a picture of me, but it was with Mia, and I think he only liked it because it implied that I was leaving for Manila.
Somehow, I know I'll never be able to escape this path to failure if I don't do something about it. I repeat this kind of cycle over and over again. I never learn.
I am so numb. I am so tired. And I know I don't have a good reason to be.
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I'm gonna find out what my score is in physics tomorrow.
I am so afraid.
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"HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT YOUR LIFE, ABBY?"
not a question asked by somebody.
I'm just pretending.
Well, I don't feel anything good about it, if anything.
In fact, I dislike it.
I don't like the cards I've been dealt with at birth.
If I could be someone smarter, prettier, more socially adept, kinder, more competent, then I think I'd be better off.
But really, I feel so powerless to the whims of my mind.
My mind controls me. I am my mind. My mind doesn't like discipline. And I know very well how that's basically required for consistent success.
I am illogical and irrational 99% of the time.
No matter how much I spout motivational quotes to myself and always aspiring to be a somebody, I'm unwilling to do the dirty work. My present self doesn't want to be responsible for my future self. And that's the root of the problem. I let inaction steal away my precious time.
Deep down, I know I wasn't born with any talent.
I wasn't born to be special. In fact, I might just end up with a boring office job and basically fulfil my destiny as a cog in the corporate world. That is, if I don't do anything about it.
I like my comfort zone too much. I don't like the discomfort of change. I don't like feeling the pain of psychological tears and pulls on the muscles of my psyche whenever I do try to change. It's torture. It's something I would rather put off for my future self to handle.
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At the rate of how many journal entries I'm writing per month/year and if my laptop somehow survives, boy is my future self going to have a lot of fun revisiting the past. It's like text prompts for my future self. The things I wouldn't otherwise remember without a prompt would forever be etched in the computer's memory and I'd be able to access it - my past - just by reading it and filling in the visual details.