After the amazing week I had, I fell quite ill; so I spent most of my time in bed. Midweek, I managed to pull myself to school. I haven't felt such aversion to attending classes and getting out of bed at 620 in the morning for a long while. I wasted the weekend on Warehouse 13, and then started finding British shows to watch. After which, I fell in love with the British/French culture, as I do every two weeks, and wished I could migrate out of here. [I still do, and I will.]
Today; I decided I wanted to join habitat for humanity, and I have a giant cup of ice cream bubble tea sitting next to me, shouting at me to start (and finish) my World Lit essay.
Damn.
So, now that you know what's been going on in my rather miserable life for the past two weeks; let me tell you how I really feel:
There's been a general feeling of dissatisfaction haunting me this past week. The idea of living with "so much more" has been shouting at me from every possible direction; do you know how it feels to be living a life mediocre? Expectations have been weighing down, and I feel like my lungs are about to give at any given moment (now). I can barely sustain what's going on each day, and my body is itching to crawl out of my skin, or at least run away from this city that stifles.
We're horrible, you know. I study war poetry twice a week, and learn about the plight of those not fortunate enough to be living in such a pristine first world country every other day. I learn about how to make the world a better place, and I'm receiving one of the most expensive educations a kid at my age could. Yet apart from complaining, I really don't see myself doing anything else.
If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy, I could have won.
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