Someone once told me, if you want a fulfilling life, then join the Army, visit exotic places, meet strange people, then kill them. Mine isn't that fulfilling afterall, since the only exotic place I could think of I had visited is Santorini Island in Greece, which may be far from exotic for some of you. I have met strange people but I have not kill them. I can barely run 5km, what more join the army and get shipped off to Iraq.
In a nutshell, I cannot see how fulfilling my life can get. My everyday routine is so mundane that if you lead my life, you probably would have jump off cliffs by now. I have just returned from a whole morning at trial with my Walking Encylopedia and my brain cells are close to collapsing from exhaustion. If there is a brain cell tribunal, I am sure I have alot of complains from mine. Overworked and underfed.
In a nutshell, I cannot see how fulfilling my life can get. My everyday routine is so mundane that if you lead my life, you probably would have jump off cliffs by now. I have just returned from a whole morning at trial with my Walking Encylopedia and my brain cells are close to collapsing from exhaustion. If there is a brain cell tribunal, I am sure I have alot of complains from mine. Overworked and underfed.
I honestly believe now, with every ounce of strength - emotionally/mentally/physically I have in me, I haven't quite grown up and fully developed to be the mature woman I would have expected to be as I near towards my quarter-life. On some days, I still feel I live in a glass house and if someone decides to pelt pebbles at me, my santuary of happiness will shatter. The essence of every pursuit of happiness is to be able to detach yourself from worldly things and live life knowing that nothing is eternal, nothing last forever, and in some ways or another, we either get left behind or leave someone behind.
Nobody likes a whiner. Trust us on this one (if you don't believe us, ask Michael Moore!) Seriously, I've really got to cut that out. It's driving some people fucking nuts. Every time I whine (especially in public) it must make you want to leave me on the side of the road. This waffling about how unfulfilling my life is has got to stop. I change my mind faster than Rudy Gulliani changes his politics. Do I freaking love my job or not? Do I want to go for a smashingtastic holiday or not? Do I like coming to work and replying nasty emails or do these nasty emails make me want to cry and go home instead? I am starting to remind you of the schizo ex-girlfriend from college - and that is never a good sign.
I was once a 3 foot cutely chubby kid that everyone loves, even when I was just babbling endlessly about how I enjoy colouring my parent's stark white walls with permanent colourful marker pens. The keyword there was COLOUR. White just wasn't my taste when I was tiny and cute. Well, I did not stay 3 foot forever. I grew taller, a little and all my antics were not so funny as my height increased too. Pretty soon, that "being cute" thing started to wear a little thin. I had to back it up with some serious substance. After all, the world is filled with formerly cute kids who couldn't quite cut it at the next level. When I turned 6, my parents sat me down and gave me the "talk". They warned me, "If you want all this continued love and affection, you're going to need to raise your game." For starters, no more painting on walls.
So, I took their advice with a kilo of salt, knowing they have my interests at heart and that for the next 15 years, my hands will be in their pockets. I do not want my inheritance to be cut off nor I found the idea of camping in the garden appealing. Besides, 12 years later, I had to be begging them for a car. So...I took the safe road, the higher road - I did not become a stripper, I live my parents' dream - made them proud and made myselfso miserable a professional.
All I have to do now is be grateful for the blessings in life and grow up!!
Nobody likes a whiner. Trust us on this one (if you don't believe us, ask Michael Moore!) Seriously, I've really got to cut that out. It's driving some people fucking nuts. Every time I whine (especially in public) it must make you want to leave me on the side of the road. This waffling about how unfulfilling my life is has got to stop. I change my mind faster than Rudy Gulliani changes his politics. Do I freaking love my job or not? Do I want to go for a smashingtastic holiday or not? Do I like coming to work and replying nasty emails or do these nasty emails make me want to cry and go home instead? I am starting to remind you of the schizo ex-girlfriend from college - and that is never a good sign.
I was once a 3 foot cutely chubby kid that everyone loves, even when I was just babbling endlessly about how I enjoy colouring my parent's stark white walls with permanent colourful marker pens. The keyword there was COLOUR. White just wasn't my taste when I was tiny and cute. Well, I did not stay 3 foot forever. I grew taller, a little and all my antics were not so funny as my height increased too. Pretty soon, that "being cute" thing started to wear a little thin. I had to back it up with some serious substance. After all, the world is filled with formerly cute kids who couldn't quite cut it at the next level. When I turned 6, my parents sat me down and gave me the "talk". They warned me, "If you want all this continued love and affection, you're going to need to raise your game." For starters, no more painting on walls.
So, I took their advice with a kilo of salt, knowing they have my interests at heart and that for the next 15 years, my hands will be in their pockets. I do not want my inheritance to be cut off nor I found the idea of camping in the garden appealing. Besides, 12 years later, I had to be begging them for a car. So...I took the safe road, the higher road - I did not become a stripper, I live my parents' dream - made them proud and made myself
All I have to do now is be grateful for the blessings in life and grow up!!
