These past three years, in response to the ever changing, capitalistic, economic system, I’ve labored at a game I can’t ever win. And it’s good to be realistic; great, even; but at the expense of losing my sense of self? what I used to define as a part of me? …It wasn’t worth it. I had this compelling freedom, this valuable privilege of being able to do what I choose, instead of what I need to do to survive, yet I threw it away in the name of being realistic, forcing myself to do things that should’ve opened up new pathways, if I was good at them. But how can I be good at something I have to force myself to do? Others can, but I can’t. I admire their perseverance, but I really can’t. I honestly tried. Really. And all it did was thin out my motivation in everything I do. One failure initiated a whole stream of failures, till I just didn’t have the capacity to care about anything anymore. And so I got stuck.
But I’m done. I’m out. I back out of this game of endless standards. I’m through. Indeed, there are people who can do what they love whilst living up to these standards; most of my friends are able to do that, I think. And I admire those people. I aspire to be them. Yet, at this point in my life, I don’t know how to. I can only see life as choices between what I love and what I have to do to live up to the stereotypes. And I’ve failed at both. So I’m choosing to go back to what I love. Maybe one day I’ll be able to find a good balance, but I can’t right now.
I need to swim, I need to paint, I need to read a stream of good, useless novels, I need to write.
I should be studying: physics, SAT, ACT, APUSH, etc. But I can’t seem to, unless I get a bit of what I need.