Haven't had the time to write lately as I was busy teaching English to students who hate English. Cool, another way to mentally torture people. Keeping that aside, I totally miss writing poetry, I miss scribbling lines of my toxic mind on a piece of paper. I wish I still have the enthusiasm for writing as much as I did before this but sadly, work has been keeping me apart from my love and passion for writing. Yes, I am teaching the language I favor the most but I can honestly tell that I am getting a tad rusty in terms of writing my thought.
If people ask me about my life, how has it been going on for me lately, I could possibly give a very short answer. I don't know, for someone with a mood swing that changes for far too quick, I must say I am dangling like a feather. Seize the day, they say. But in my case, more like just living life as it is. I am preoccupied with too many ideas but I have too little time to actually accomplish my thoughts into reality. I have this visual image of decorating my house in minimalist theme, I imagine myself writing a complete collection of poems, I could see myself standing in front of those students with a head full of exciting lessons, I daydream about going to a vacation, I can see how my car would be like when I have it beautified, all these images flash inside my mind but with minimum effort and not so much money, I fail to make them real. Fuck my life, I know.
As much as I could tell, each day when I look at my life I'm pretty sure everything is moving too fast and I'm just too lazy to run with it. Little did I know what the hell am I supposed to do when I fall deep into the sea of anxiety and fear. I guess for some reason the word "hopeless" describes me too well.
Well, this is the only words I am capable of writing for now. See, I could not even figure out how to set my train of thoughts and channel them into a twisted melancholic tale like I normally did. Need to get some inspirations, maybe.