And at 23, I'm ashamed to admit that writing has become insanely alien to me. Try as I might, summoning up a coherent sentence is no longer as easy.
Also at 23, it has dawned upon me that I am H-O-L-L-O-W. I thought I had rediscovered myself back in Bali in the Friday that was, but being back here to the same old routine has once again driven me into ... senseless ennui.
Oh snap out of it Jo Ann you know you're better than this if you could just STOP trying so hard. Always remember that it's all a matter of perspective so strive to look at it from another angle. Yes I am talking to myself but this is completely fine, seeing that self-reflection is as healthy as it gets...unless of course, if it leaves your life stagnant and unchanged. *shudders*
Before I sign myself off from a totally pointless blog post (they all are all the time, I know) I have a confession: I love, hence am addicted to travelling. There's that dream, still waiting to be realised. Which leads to a pressing - possibly pivotal - notion: Could I possibly work something out where I can maintain a certain balance between doing what I love and not dying from it out of sheer inability to sustain doing what I love?
Meh. I'm 23. About time, baby.
Meh. I'm 23. About time, baby.
