i’ve erased two of my last paragraphs. writing is getting difficult, i dont know whether its because my mind is clouded with thoughts or because the lack of it. times have been better on the front, relationships are getting ruined, work is not getting done and there has been no progress on the ‘happy meter’.
when i started off on this journey, i had a clear idea of where i wanted to go, how i wanted to get there. like a new kid on his first day at work, the enthusiasm was refreshing, tasks seemed like challenges and the corporate ladder seemed like a cakewalk. now, 11 months and 23 days later, i’m sitting alone in my room, typing away, with no message of note i want to jot down. where am i going to go? what am i going to do? how am i going to do it? when am i going to do it?
i’m tired of complaining about my life. i’m tired of everything. friends, family, career, money, girls, its all just too much.
is it really supposed to be so hard?