i am stuck in the bowels of despair 🙁
is this a mid-life crisis? well i’ve been feeling it for some time now, but mostly, it is conveniently dislocated and chucked unceremoniously, to the recesses of the dusty, web-spun corners of my awareness, usually reserved for the insignificant and forgotten.
but it hasnt really gone away.
so the question really is this: is happiness too easy an excuse for mediocrity? or in spite of it all is it just self-delusion or self-justification for the mediocre being that i am, to hold on so tightly to the little trinkets of comfort and stability in my life, watching others attempt to make something out of their lives.
the real reason is that i’m such a wimp. too afraid to fail. all those age-old adages and dictums about how “success is the mother of failure” and what not don’t move me. and of course it’s easier to just distract myself with easier and happier things than to fall into this blackhole of emptiness at 6AM in the morning.
|Part of Speech:||noun|
|Definition:||state of doing nothing|
|Synonyms:||acedia, deferral, deliquescence, depression, doldrums, dormancy, ennui, fecklessness, idleness, inactivity, indolence, inertia, inertness,lassitude, lethargy, otiosity, passivity, quiescence, quietude, slothfulness, stagnation, stasis, suspension, torpidity, torpor|
thesaurus.com is just so enlightening.
i sometimes think that i wasn’t so bad three or four years ago. still young, still willing to fall. now i fear i won’t get past the pain of bruised, bleeding knees and my conscious mind can’t stomach the idea of being a failure. me, a failure
arghh. back to my little superficial life for now. my egoistic brain just cannot wrap around that F-word. or relate myself to it.
ice cream makes me happy.
find happiness within™, courtesy of marble slab creamery. my little cup of happiness was a scoop of butter pecan ice cream mixed with reeses and walnuts, deposited within a chocolate and almond coated waffle biscuit… (: luscious.
and my tablecloth-like top. spotted another girl who was wearing a tablecloth like me too, except hers was a dress. hmm.