I Am Being Stalked

Wednesday, 10 August, 2011.

These few days have been bad.

Real bad.

Five times already I have sensed someone watching me when I had my back turned around. Twice I heard some footsteps shadowing mine. I feel someone’s following me. Watching me. Silently.

There it is! Again! No.. no… That’s just a bird. Or some other animal… I hope…

I got to keep moving. Otherwise I’m just a sitting duck staying here. I need to do something. Anything. Fast.

Wish me safety, my friends…

Confused. I Am Confused.

To find a goal in life. After writing an entire essay filled with conviction about the motivations of life, I suddenly realized that I’m not sure what my life goal is. Or, for that matter, what it should be.

Oh the irony.

To help others? To return something back to society? Is that what I should be doing?

Or do I just need to seek enjoyment? Find something I like to do and keep at it?

Or is it a mixture of both?

Confused. I am confused.

A General Paper Essay

Photo by orangeacid
Gosh, I hate dead writing. I hate writing with obvious signposting. I hate writing without a voice. I hate writing that have fixed structures. (i.e. School Essays)

I hate all that, but I also realize that that’s the best way to obtain a decent grade. And grades are everything now, aren’t they?

I guess it’s true after all —  If you can’t beat them, join them.

Do Not Be Embarrassed

When you fall, think less of an  “oh dear I’m so clumsy” and more of a “I fell, but I’ll stand stronger now”;

When you say something silly, think less of an “oh dear I’m so stupid” and more of a “I am not afraid of making mistakes in order to learn”;

When you make a mistake, think less of an “oh dear I am always wrong” and more of a “Yep, I’ll learn from this mistake. You’ll be sure I won’t make the same mistake twice”.

In life, nearly everything embarrassing can be nullified by being proud of it.

So why choose the former instead of the latter?

Time

It’s been two weeks already. Nineteen days actually.

If you think about it, that’s 456 hours. Or Twenty Seven Thousand Minutes. 27,360 to be exact.

Plenty of time to get things done. But I’ve pretty much done nothing at all.

What I didn’t realize was that time hadn’t just crept past me. Nope, it waltzed right by me, shoved me with its elbow, gave me the finger, and then proceeded to calmly hail a cab and hightail out of town.

And what was I doing throughout all that? Well, I just sat there and thought about the purpose of life.

Ah yes, absolutely zen-like, if I dare say so myself.