Discomfort strikes me. It deals considerable damage. Just enough to make me sit here and think, when I should be enjoying my weekend. I seem to feel as if I want to live in the future. I am building myself up for the ideal lifestyle I want to accomplish, or rather, the ideal me I want to live as in the future. Knowing what you want is important. But I feel as if I am depending on that too much, depending on that very potential of myself and my future to feel happy. A false kind of security, happiness that doesn't really exist. Only in imaginations, fantasies and dreams I exist. that's kind of sad.
Live in the present, and enjoy the present. It's kinda hard for me.
That's why every week I feel happier, because somehow, I know that the future is drawing closer. that future, that I am so looking forward to.
Once again, Enter April.
A quarter of the year has just gone behind us, and I tell you, 2010 is really not going to be easy. Weekends I just practice the piano, hoping that I find myself. Fantasizing about myself playing that very one goal piece on my very own pool side grand piano is one very great motivation. Goal piece, or goal pieces. there are many. And I often forget that being able to play a simple beethoven sonata and most importantly enjoy it, is already a very great gift. Most people never come to this stage, to enjoy the piano so much.
That is why I am so unhappy. I am here, but I always want to be there. And when I'm there, I want to be somewhere else.
My birthday is coming soon. I really don't expect any wishes, nor presents except from my family or whatsoever. Even that person whom I somehow expect her to call me on my birthday, I don't really expect or want that anymore. In fact, I've given up. today again, is a day where I feel uneasy because I think of you again. I miss you all of the sudden. (but a huge percentage of what I miss is kind of wrong, so yea, you guys get the drift). I don't really want to dwell on the past. But I find myself less affected after every relapse.
I am happy now. Maybe.
It's almost eleven months to the magical ORD. the shape of the island is there, but there is some fog surrounding it. Accelerate! oh please accelerate. Every single action, or string of words spoken, no matter how innocent, can be a fragment of that gigantic political portrait in the platoon.
Endure. it's only ELEVEN more months!
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