My procrastination is a form of avoidance, and in consequence, or maybe subconsciously this in fact is the goal, a form of self sabotage. Whatever the motivation or cause, the outcome is the same regardless, I do not live up to my full potential. Last minute girl. Half assed girl. I don’t want to be any of these. Why am I not working on my paper, I partly don’t even care anymore, accademic success doesn’t hold the allure it once did anymore. That do or die feeling is gone, the rewards aren’t applicable anymore, I don’t know what I want from this life anymore. I want freedom, I think. I think I’ve always wanted freedom, I’m pretty sure that’s what I have been chasing all this time, in all these futile ways. Truth is, I don’t think I’ve ever been free, I can’t recall the taste of freedom, like I can’t recall the the taste of water. Is it an illusion? An oasis up in the distance, a destination this thirsty dessert wanderer will never reach? I don’t know, maybe that’s why the opening monologue of Ride brings tears to my eyes, and tugs at my soul in that strange way only a really great piece of writing can. I think I need to leave this place, this small town that I seem to be chained to in a way that never lets me move on from my past regrets. I’m at half colour here, a faded girl that’s really more a ghost haunting a life that isn’t quite anymore. I need to leave, I’m no fool, the grass isn’t greener someplace else, but I have to stop fading. I want to stop fading.


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