Unevenness

I am at a restless point in my life.


When I was 15 years old, my role was to be a disastrous juvenile. My mother's frenzied attempts to salvage my declining grades resulted in the employment of an extra-curricular tutor. On one occasion during my throws of frustration, he told me something profound: Sucess is a product of two ingredients, structure and perseverance.


Because I am a dreamer (my mother has always reminded me so as a child), I always have the structure set up. Ideals and illusions that are so marvellous that if I were to list them on a piece of paper, I could admire, venerate it, and the next moment crumble it into a useless barren mound when reality penetrates it, sullying its good nature. That is what my ideals and illusions are, uncompromising.


The perseverance part, I am ashamed of.
I have no significant events to commemorate to perseverance. Not an adjective to describe me, lest I further disappoint myself in being a phony.


So what does this little girl do, you ask?


She fills her shelves with many commonplace DIY help books advising her on career and financial paths. She spends her time reading them, seeking some sort of enlightenment to satiate the pangs of inadequacy, but what use can be extracted from a map if one is constrained in a glass box?


*Sigh*


Others seem to know to a certain extent of what their future might turn out to be, and they take steps to chase after it, I look on and envy them whilst I stand in my stagnating platform. Their future slowly diffusing immaculately into what they know as their present, closing the disparity between both extremes.
I am myopic to any advancements in my life.



Oh... the agony and angst of lying still in the abyss.