Race

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God. I know that tragedy can be used as a really powerful testimony but I don’t exactly want to do nothing with this life.

I’m not scared, I’m not sad. I’m not terrified or depressed. I’m lying in bed doing nothing.

It may be that the answer to my prayer, for me to get my ass out of bed and find some holy amount of willpower to finish 5 month’s worth of schoolwork in 2 weeks, is no. The answer might be: no, you’re gonna learn to build up the self-control that you lost over the past few years.

Years are long. Years are very long. I can’t even remember the last time I sat myself down to do something necessary that I didn’t necessarily like.

My motivation is like a big rock that’s been sitting in mud for too long. Sinking, sinking, sinking. Now it’s a struggle to move in the slightest amount. But there’s only one way get this rock back on top of things, free to roll again.

I need to fight it. Slowly, I think. If I don’t spend enough time recharging, I’m probably just gonna crash again.

If I expect too much, go for too much, I might just disappoint myself.

This sounds like defeat, doesn’t it? Sounds like surrender. But that valiant, suicide-pace mentallity… I don’t think that was healthy either. It enabled me to put things off till the last, latest second.

Thinking that way, my time was always spent solving crises instead of preventing them. Perhaps the stress led me on, challenged me. Most likely, though, I was just looking for something to boost my ego. ‘Look how much I can do in so little time,’ etc. Well, now I’m sick of it. I’m tired. I’m always tired.

This isn’t how people change the world. I can’t create crises just in order to make my life more interesting. That’s sacrificing the future for the sake of the present. Shooting myself in the leg to make the race more interesting.

Nah. That’s not how it’s done. The race gets interesting on its own, if only I’d get up to speed.

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