we are infinite.

Rebekah "I SEE YOU, NIK!"




SNOWING!

Dress from Topshop!

Drunk Melvin.

SNOWING AGAIN! With soap suds. -___-

Joce caught psycho mid dance

This was how my 2012 new year started out.

More often than not, I find myself feeling like I’m always running, running, running and running. Not from anything, no. Perhaps I should seek solace in the knowledge that I’m not coward enough to run away from anything that comes my way. Instead, I always feel like I’m running towards an end, a destination point so far off in the horizon that my view is obscured by haze and distance.

I don’t know where life will take me 5, 10 years down the road. The very thought itself scares me beyond comprehension. I’m afraid of growing old, I’m afraid of losing the energy, vibrance and spirit that I’m currently blessed with in my youth. I want to do so much, yet often I lament the fact that I haven’t been given as much as some others have been.

Questions like, “why wasn’t I born into a wealthy family?” and “why wasn’t I born with clearly notable talents or phenomenal intelligence?” and “why wasn’t I born more beautiful?” often plague my mind.

It’s human nature, isn’t it? To always be dissatisfied, to always want more, to yearn for more and to blame the omnipotent forces of nature for our lives being less than satisfactory. I am ashamed of myself for having these thoughts and even voicing out my frustration for having less than what I want.

But is it not this very dissatisfaction, this very discontent that drives people to achieve great things?

If Einstein wasn’t dissatisfied with having to roam around in the dim light of a candle, would he have invented electricity? If people weren’t tired of having to ride on unreliable bumpy horses, would they have invented cars and other modes of transport?

Perhaps not.

I have always believed that the first step to success is desire – desire to be the change you want to see. Everyone has dreams and aspirations, but the danger lies in self indulgence and comfort: when one is too comfortable with himself or his life, he loses the motivation to drive himself to greater heights. Same goes with self indulgence: when someone takes joy in tiny accomplishments and rewards himself too easily, he gets satisfied by unsubstantial little triumphs in the long run.

I never want to end up like that.

But herein lies the problem: I’m so terribly indolent and unmotivated.

I look at the people around me – they study hard, work hard and put so much effort into making something of themselves. Yet here I am, continuously lounging in this little boat I call Life and taking it easy. All the time. Yet I can’t seem to reach deep enough to pull out the stimulus to spur myself on towards the finishing line.

‘Resigning myself to fate’ is the mantra I always chant when I just want an excuse to give up.

Perhaps I’m too hard on myself, my friends would say. But I disagree.

Food for thought.