My Psyche's Tangled Philosophies
Day 162.
While the world is angry about the loss of the Boston Celtics and Manny Pacquiao, I was in front of my laptop all day trying to squeeze out a love story. As a result, two drafts were produced but somehow, I'm not completely satisfied. I hate that feeling when I'm done doing something but I still feel like there's something missing and I have no freaking idea what it is. That's my best description right now.
These past few days, I've been pondering about the things that are still missing in my life. Some people would say it's premature for someone like me to think about the missing pieces of my life's puzzle because for one, I could still qualify for a kid and secondly, it's just been a year since I've been out of school. Basically, I have no right to even think of the things that will complete me because I'm not that experienced. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm even sane.
Looking back at my 22 years of existence, I can say I've accomplished things. I learned to dance, sing, act, play instruments and sports, solve mathematical problems to the best of my abilities, relate with people and myself, deal with difficulties both material and immaterial, give, sacrifice, grieve and love. For an average person, that's a lot but I really don't know. I still feel like I haven't learned enough, gone to places enough, met people enough, hurt enough and loved enough. Nothing in my life seems to be in a completed status. Maybe my mom's right. I'm just a kid.
On a lighter note, maybe this feeling of incompleteness is a good thing. It means I still have something to live for, something to yearn for and be excited about. I have a whole life ahead of me and now I just feel ridiculous about rushing to get to the finish line two minutes ago.
Yeah. This is how I think in times of my psyche's tangled philosophies.
Maybe I should just watch a movie to relax or something.
Thanks for playing.
While the world is angry about the loss of the Boston Celtics and Manny Pacquiao, I was in front of my laptop all day trying to squeeze out a love story. As a result, two drafts were produced but somehow, I'm not completely satisfied. I hate that feeling when I'm done doing something but I still feel like there's something missing and I have no freaking idea what it is. That's my best description right now.
These past few days, I've been pondering about the things that are still missing in my life. Some people would say it's premature for someone like me to think about the missing pieces of my life's puzzle because for one, I could still qualify for a kid and secondly, it's just been a year since I've been out of school. Basically, I have no right to even think of the things that will complete me because I'm not that experienced. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm even sane.
Looking back at my 22 years of existence, I can say I've accomplished things. I learned to dance, sing, act, play instruments and sports, solve mathematical problems to the best of my abilities, relate with people and myself, deal with difficulties both material and immaterial, give, sacrifice, grieve and love. For an average person, that's a lot but I really don't know. I still feel like I haven't learned enough, gone to places enough, met people enough, hurt enough and loved enough. Nothing in my life seems to be in a completed status. Maybe my mom's right. I'm just a kid.
On a lighter note, maybe this feeling of incompleteness is a good thing. It means I still have something to live for, something to yearn for and be excited about. I have a whole life ahead of me and now I just feel ridiculous about rushing to get to the finish line two minutes ago.
Yeah. This is how I think in times of my psyche's tangled philosophies.
Maybe I should just watch a movie to relax or something.
Thanks for playing.
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