April blues

Disclaimer: Put out your ice cubes and rafters, please.

There’s just something missing.
Like a missing ingredient to make the pot taste better. Some people never needed that ingredient; it’s more like a bonus for them because they are already naturally or skillfully “tasty.” Geniuses, talented, gifted. As for me, aside from being a lowly ordinary human being with the average IQ, I needed it because convention, peer pressure, and the simple steps towards maturity call for it. Society dictates that to be the perfect brew and reach a high rate to success, you must add up this specific ingredient. To anyone else, that ingredient would be relative depending on their past regrets or deficiency in life. It can be two ingredients, several, or a lot. To me it’s just one. And by God it’s not about a guy.

I wasted my time in college. I got sidetracked, distracted, care-free… name it, the point is I wasted my time spending it mostly outside of class. I had too many missed opportunities that I intentionally ignored. Everything felt hard or boring or just plain uninteresting because I never tried the next step. I never had a goal then, a concrete one at that. I was just thinking of the “now,” the “what’s next?”, and not the aftereffects of my actions to my future.

This, hence, resulted to getting pissed off easily, defensive, negative and fuck, just plain pathetic. In short, pity parties are most concurrent than my monthly period. But most of all, I just feel tired. Tired of regretting why I made second thoughts and chose the wrong answer, knowing in the first place that it’s the wrong answer (stupid huh?). So tired of holding myself back and regretting why I wasted my time not being able to go through that and finish what needs to be finished. And so, so fucking tired of thinking if I deserve to be happy knowing that I’m still half-baked? Right now I just feel exhausted writing this pitiable paragraph.

It just so happens I felt the happiest after coming back from my summer hiatus before and during Holy Week. Now, after too much thinking and piecing together insubstantial facts (best called as rumors), that source of happiness is quickly evaporating. With this, please go back to the previous paragraph, first three sentences. Only it’s worse by two folds because I was on higher ground than before, so the fall is longer and harder.

Honestly, this admission is too private for me and too close to the target, but thinking if I let it out to the world (if ever anyone would care to listen), maybe an echo with a different voice and more positive sentiments might come back. I don’t want to call this entry a “pity party” because hell and high water will come first before I admit to it as such. I just don’t want to shut up anymore. And I’m freaking pissed off. Hell, I need a shrink. Or maybe a hug.

Pity party indeed.


Other titles for this entry: Moment of weakness, Pity party, Ice cubes and rafters, Quarterly period, Free hug, Vetsin nga dyan