8pm- I was walking alone in an open carpark on a hot Monday night when it dawned upon me that things couldn’t possibly get any more uneasy as this. The warm dusty gush of polluted city air added to the torment of lingering annoyance; almost reminding me that there’s not much comfort to be found beyond weekday’s 6pms.

Dry seasons do not begin with a pummeling crash of events. its a smooth curve that declines gracefully, and then suddenly you begin to realise that everything else towers above you like a pea amongst amonst the titan’s dinner table. And I slowly begin to resent not just the things around me, but also the choices I’ve made with those options in which I have.

Sometimes I feel like I woke up to shoes too big for my tiny feet to fit. Never once I had a chance to outgrow my own shell of comfort- its as though every year I’m given a new shell that I have to grow to fit into. I begin to ask myself why I do the things to do, as though only by the doing can we find the reason for living. In this mediocratic world, its almost as though we can’t think or wait for those kind of answers anymore. Every opportunity is presented merely because its everyone’s right to have them; but why those options exist and what are we suppose to do with them, nobody knows. If there’s a job, somebody must do it. there’s always a bigger purpose in a corporate level to fulfill amidst the completion of things, but to the individual, its up to them to find the alignment of their self contentment in between those things.

To sum up the above said things in layman terms, I suck at what I do, yet there’s always this fear that I might be relieved from the things I suck at doing. Its just so hard. Yet somewhere within me I feel that this is just an inevitable process of life.

Emo, imho.