“But he is so wary, wary. Has visions of his life, but in a hiatus as to their implementation—wants to fly, and hasn’t yet started to take off, so resents extra weight.”
i have spent the past few months ensconced in my very own prism of self-reflection, most of which i feel not at liberty to publish. i am private that way, more so than i thought, given the vacillating existence of this blog. i cannot reveal myself until i am sure. i have been keeping a small diary. even then, sometimes i forget to write. my writing is hideous and it pains me to read my own writing.
the best laid plans are oft slowly executed. and i am no stranger to laborious executions; my waking world is filled with daily inexorable cockups, and yet i harbour moderate to little antipathy towards my job. “gathering experience,” i say to myself on a good day. “wasting your bloody life,” i say to myself on a bad day. who knows.
everyday i choose not to go to sleep unhappy with a life that i am not happy with.
so, from here on i choose to lead a life focused solely on my vision. that’s what your twenties are for: digging a grave so deep the only way out is to emerge victorious from the other side.