Sometimes I wonder. If I were as suave or as talkative or as charming or as charismatic or as intelligent as some people, would I be happier? Would I be happier if I had more friends? If my friends were closer? If I could befriend someone in an instant instead of needing several months in close proximity? Sometimes I'm just so pathetic. I'm just...who I am. I judge myself more than I judge anyone else. My own sister doesn't like me. Would I be happier if I had people at my feet, wanting to spend every waking moment with me? I should be grateful for the people I have, but I feel like I miss so many opportunities because I can't seem to articulate myself or, well, do anything. I'm not charismatic. I'm awkward, slightly slow, sarcastic, quiet, and self-conscious. Describes a winner, doesn't it?
Maybe it's just me. I could be bringing this on myself by wallowing about it all the time, wishing I could be this or that. I feel misunderstood, unheard, and unappreciated. My sister can go out with friends and be everything she wants to be and I'm stuck at home and at work. My excuse for not hanging out is working, but that's a stupid excuse. I was fine with my job, but now that I hear of people going places and me stuck here, I want, so badly, to fly away. I want to go to another country altogether. This world I live in drives me crazy. I don't want to go back to school. I want to do what I want to do, not what society tells me to do. What do I work for? My future. I work for tomorrow. It will always be tomorrow.
I'm torn between fulfilling my parents' dream of having a college degree and not being scorned by society, but yet I find so much more joy working and making money, even if it's just at a day-to-day job. But then I wonder: is this what I've been studying for my entire life? To stay in my hometown all my life and never move just because I feel comfortable? I always enjoyed being comfortable and settled. But sometimes it seems like God allows me to make a nest here before putting a burning desire in my heart to turn my whole world upside down again.
It probably isn't healthy. I can hardly read without wanting, so badly, to be the author behind a genius idea. I can hardly watch a film without yearning to be there. To be somewhere, doing something. My life is just beginning and already I'm disappointed with it. I want more. I want to suck the marrow out of life and I want to explore this place we call the world. I want to do things I'd only dreamed of. I want to let go of my inhibitions and live freely. I want to live. I want to live. I'm tired of being in my own skin. I'm tired of dreaming. I'm tired of living in my head. Perhaps that's the reason why I can't write well. It's because I lack the experience, either emotional or physical.
Let me out of this cage!
I want to find my moment. I want to have a moment. I want to live. It might not be easy, but I want to try.
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