by marrie
Now, I think counting the days is useless. I failed, already. However, I manage to keep the goal safe in its track. So I decide to keep counting.
Starting to write today's entry.
You know, when you were younger there are plans you made for yourself while growing up. So many, you couldn't decide which to start. (Ever) Undone plans.
You planned to read more, so that you could write better, speak better. You planned to spend more time with your family, so that you love them more. You planned to go on a trip (trips, maybe) with your friends and colleagues just because it sounds fun. You planned to start a business but not even toddle the talk.
You get inspired, and the time flies the next thing you know, you haven't done a single thing on the list. How frustrating. Just to make it worst, you did nothing about it. Feeling bad about yourself, huh?
I read an article while having my breakfast this morning. The columnist is a blogger. He gets to write an article in a magazine. If jealousy can be seen, mine is on flame. Clear blue one. He must've spent half of his life blogging. I always wanted to be a writer, but I knew I am blunt. I am mad now. Urghhh!!
Then, I realised. Wait, I can't decide whether I am easily satisfied or am I easily distracted with various inspirations? In a particular dimension, I knew I am not a loser like how I always feel about myself. In many dimensions, I am a distinctive failure. Whatever that means.
Hahahahahaa.. Writing like this, selfish? I'm insecure. And don't know what to do about it. Tried to write, and it sounded like this. Please, forgive me. You knew this is not easy.
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