After putting up with my hormones, and re-socializing myself with the rest of the world, I felt bad for being me.
There's nothing special about me. I'm not smart. I have never been, nor can I pretend to be. I will never understand the financial market. I know what's happening is bad, but I can't analyze it. I can't hypothesize what will come next and what preventive measures people should theoretically engage in. I cannot have a conversation about the hyperinflation of the Zimbabwean Dollar or how to change the system to make it better.
I have no real talent, as compared to any of my friends and other people I know. I cannot capture the moment. Hell, I can't even capture any moment.
I don't shine in anyway.
Worse, I've holed myself up at home as I have no money to spend. I haven't learnt Italian as I still have this inert resentment for being in Italy. I've found spiders all over the house!!!
I didn't know that this is what I'd be doing at 26.
I just want to get a life.
You know what?
The decision has always been mine to make. I'm nothing special. I'm just me. With a wonderful boyfriend who supports me unconditionally, who takes in me, for being plain ol' Jane. I really have nothing to complain about.
2 comments:
all i read was balderdash, balderdash, blah, blah none of this is true
here's the golden rule of self love and self respect: NEVER ALLOW YOURSELF TO SAY BAD THINGS ABOUT YOU. as it stands, there's plenty of people in the world who would do that without even batting an eyelash. come on chickie... you know bloody better than that.
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