Bits of me are falling through the cracks, and though I have the power to bring what was lost back, I hardly have the will. It's turned into a habit, this sickness of mine, to forget myself.It's been a very productive few weeks, every hour spent doing something or other justifiable goal diligently and with much gusto. The taste of success is neither sweet nor bitter though, but a strange gray smear of bland on my weary tongue. It's like I've walked for miles only to find I'm back where I started.
Nothing has changed...
... except I've lost along that circuitous way some of the things I've held dear: my friends, my identity, my life.
But this is what I wanted. These are my dreams I'm chasing. This is my conscious choice. This is my heart breaking, with compromise nowhere in sight.
I feel like the butt of college's most prejudiced and hurtfully-accurate remarks: "Antaas ng grades nya, siguro loner yan."
And the worst of it is there's no spinning this into some insightfully positive advise. I guess optimism fell through the cracks, too.
