I used to think that procrastination was bad. The act of postponing something out of fear is something I’ve master the art of.
Is it because I don’t want to change and procrastination is the easy way out?
Is it because my demons have more control than I’m willing to admit?
Asking questions has become somewhat of a chore. 30+ years later and the questions haven’t changed.
At some point there will have to be a turning curve.
I can’t marvel at the irony of using a treadmill. You walk in place, for the illusion of movement, yet in reality you go nowhere, absolutely nowhere. Is that where this journey is heading to – nowhere?
Life is supposed to be full of surprises, full of twists and turns. But what if those twists and turns do more harm than good? What if all the experiences that are supposed to make us just end up breaking us?
Is this what we should celebrate when we should live it up?
Tonight I’m just asking a bunch of questions. It’s the uncertainty that is starting to unravel my sanity.
Things are supposed to get better as we get older, isn’t it?