I admit that I have not been a saint since I was born. I made mistakes, some big and some small ones, and I regret ones that I remember and ones that I don't. I have been a sinner, a good one at that. Well, probably it's hereditary (joking, dad) and I am aware of that fact.
But it seems like every time I try my best to do better, I just fall back into that same pattern and it just makes me so frustrated. Maybe life is supposed to be gray and I should just accept that, you know? Or maybe I am just making things up because I am refusing to admit the fact that I don't try hard enough, or maybe I am just too tangled up with everything.
Or maybe I am just too afraid.
Maybe we all are.
I don't know. I am still figuring it out.
When the midnight clock strikes, I am reminded of things that I don't want to remember. I hate it. I hate the fact that I am such a crybaby, and now I am writing a Wattpad story just to express myself. I refuse to seek help, see a therapist or to figure things out with myself because I am so tired of trying, you get me?
Every single day, I wake up and not a single second go by without me judging myself for making any decisions, whether if it's right or wrong. Instead, I'll pick one, not because it's right but because I am tired of second-guessing myself.
But right now, I was just scrolling Twitter and I saw the news about Beirut explosion. It made my heart skipped a beat. I'll leave things here, for now.
Until we meet again in the next entry.