This feeling used to come up every once in a while, but the past few months it’s more often than I’d like to admit. Tonight it is more intense than usual.
There was a time when everything seemed possible, that I could do anything.
If my ambitious naive 15-year-old self saw me today, would he care for the excuses I make? Would he be proud or disgusted? Deep down, I know what he’d say—and that’s what frightens me.
When did it all go wrong? I suppose there isn’t a singular inflection point but a gradual decline over time—worn out by society and my own actions. I yearn for the simplistic days when I relentlessly believed in myself. Ignorance was bliss.
Right now, I feel like the middle guy in that normal distribution meme. But maybe there’s still hope for me to end up on the right side.
If you’re looking for the point of this blog, sorry to say there really isn’t.
Just a last CPR attempt at reviving my curious self.
