I wake up and I feel like throwing everything away. I’m not happy with a lot of things – does it mean I should surrender?
I’m not sure what I’m fighting for anymore. This year should represent my revolution, a new beginning, a fresh start. Well there’s a lot I’d like to change to make all my dreams come true. Do I have the courage to make it happen?
Impatience. I want everything to come fast. I can’t stay still for too long or I feel like I vegetate. Another reason why I’m here now. Another reason why I take leaps of faith, searching for a truth that’ll make me happy. Finally balanced, finally done. But who am I kidding? I’ll never be done. I’ll never stop searching for this truth. And I honestly don’t know whether it’s a blessing or a curse.
I lost track of who I was for a while, I tried to fit in knowing I never would, but I tried anyway. The mold was never right. I had to find my own. Relentless search for my purpose. Relentless willingness to be a better person. I’ve come a long way – the future looks bright, so why do I worry so much?
Something else I deal with every day. Too many questions I want to answer right away. F***.
The Manichean in me will never stop driving me crazy. I’m the Esperanza Negroni of my stories. She’s always going to be with me, fueling the inspirational fire that guides my ideas so I can become a better writer. So do I really have enough? I don’t think so. I’m just too thirsty and too hungry and I want it all now. This impatience is going to kill me. It really is.
Impetuous pride I think I possess just because I’m young. Deep breath. I need to calm down.