Rough Patch

Oh. Uh. Hi there, long time no see. Uhh, yeah, ahem.

Welp, for what seems to be most apparent, I am back. For now. Hullo dust mites and tumbleweeds.

It's been so long since I last updated this barren ghost town of a blog, so I guess I shall begin with a bit of.. refreshments? Wait.. that's not the word. Refreshments are what you call the drinks they give you pre or mid event. Hmm. Whatever.

Ok.

So it's also apparent that my writing and grammar has gone to hell. Not that it was any much good to begin with, but.. now it's just out right embarrassing. But again, whatever.

I'm here because I need to, and not merely because I want to (or, because I have submission this upcoming weekend, and I'm finding ways to avoid doing work. But y'all should give me the benefit of the doubt. Heh).

To get straight to the point: I am in semester 7. Meaning I'm in my first semester, of my final year. Also meaning: I have just one more semester (6-8 months or so) until I officially graduate from my degree in architecture. Like, woah, right?

So yada-yada-yada, basically, I feel I'm reaching a somewhat "middle-aged syndrome" point in my pursuit towards achieving this degree (cough piece of paper cough). Ok, so it's not so "middle" since I'm nearing the end already, but hey, you get the drift.

I feel fucked as hell.

Frankly speaking, this semester isn't the worst. Study wise, friend wise, whatever wise - it's been pretty peachy. In fact, all around it's been a pretty good semester so far (despite Nurin not being around, but I manage. Somehow).

But man oh man do I feel some internal fucked up-ness on the inside (yeah, what did I say about my grammar going to hell? Point proven).

Not to bore you with the gory details but just a few hours ago, I was bawling my eyes out under my table in the studio contemplating the purpose of my sole existence.

I simply don't feel I'm any good in this life.

In fact, I don't feel much alive at all.

People all around me are excelling in their hobbies and interests; fulfilling their dreams and wanderlusts. Me, here, I'm just.. stuck. In complete standstill. Unchanging, immobile, lost and uninteresting - boring.

Within me there is nothing. No passion, no goal, no cool beans lovable character. Nothing.

It especially frustrates me when the people closest to me are evolving so much so that the difference between them and I is a stark constrast. People who I used to see as equal to myself, now stand tall on pedestals - while I, uh, I'm still here stuck in the dirt.

I've been alive for a good long 21 years, and lo and behold, I have achieved absolutely nothing. Or that is, for the times I actually do achieve things (if you could call them achievements even), what I presume should be a well deserved lauding, with at least a "hey thanks for that" or "congrats" is just always brushed aside.

It's as if what I do doesn't really ever matter to anyone.

On odd days, I hope to believe that I have talent, or skill, or am blessed with something or another - but for the most times, I'm slapped right right across the cheek with a reminder that I'm just.. well, not.

I used to draw so much as kid and growing up I self-proclaimed that I was somewhat "good" in art. But now, at 21 years old, after endless attempts at trying garner notice, and failing, obviously, I realize: damn, I really just can't do jack shit.

Those who I thought were at par with me in skill are actually making a business out of selling their artwork, and taking commissions. People who I thought were my equal, I realize now, really aren't. They're better than me.

Everyone's somehow better than me. And even if they're not - they are still perceived as better. They get the praise, and recognition, and admiration I will never once get to taste.

Oh, the sweet nectar of being something more than nothing; What a dream I'll never have come true.

Ok ok, yes, I know, I sound like an angst filled teen ranting about things I don't have. And yes, I know that the whole proverb of the grass is always greener on the other side applies - yeah, yeah, I get that.

But goddammit, sometimes.. Ugh, sometimes it just doesn't even feel like there is any grass on my side at all.

Am I just being a selfish ungrateful bitch for saying all this? Most definitely.

Do I regret ranting about my pent up feelings towards this current issue in my blog that no one even bothers to read?

Nnnnnnope.