Feeling: overshadowed
Listening to: Fifth Element - Diva Dance
Reading/Watching: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke

Somewhere along the way, I learned to be dissatisfied.

Because dissatisfaction is supposed to make me try harder, I guess.

So I lie in bed at night, not thinking about the good things of the day, but thinking of the ways it should have been different: should have been better, more productive, in a different city in a different job in a different school in a different life.

And in this way, I am only successful at driving myself crazy. I find myself lying there, begging my own inner jaded parent: please just be happy. Please smile and say you're proud. Say I'm going in the right direction. Say I'm not supposed to be perfect yet, say it's the time in my life for me to struggle and flail and find my way slowly. Say that even if it's never perfect, it's still okay; it's enough.

It's like begging my personal Sword of Damocles: Go ahead and fall. Make the worst happen, so that at least I know the worst has happened. Take what you want from me, but say I'm allowed to live. Please just let me live.

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