wasting time

I started writing again recently. The pen and paper type. I've been writing in my little moleskine pretending I am some sort of intellectual. It's so hard for me to not sound whiny when I write. I write too much about myself and self doubt. I try to be more observant, read more, and yet all I can write about is myself. I am probably as boring as they come.

When I want to write about other people, I don't feel comfortable publishing it. I feel what I feel, and I don't need other people judging. So I stay away and jot things down on my little moleskine. I feel like I'm running away from life.

I'm jealous of my younger cousin. I haven't seen her in many years. I would say not since I wan in junior high. She has been going to school in Singapore and traveled all over South-East Asia. They grow up so fast, and I feel old and unaccomplished. Just as I thought we're too far apart she uploads a picture from my last visit. It was of us four cousins. Turns out she keeps it with her all the time in her day planner. She turned into that wise old maid that I wish I had been.

I write with a lot of regret. About the time wasted. I'm wasting time now.

I don't know what is going to happen in the future. That is so far away. I know I have this job for the next two months. That can be so short, and yet so far away. Many people are asking what I am going to do. I have a few leads, but they have not materialized yet. I'm not in a hurry though. I am somewhat looking forward to a break. I want to give myself a couple of weeks to just rest up and regroup. To not think about anything. Just sit around a read or something. Wake up in the morning and go for a long run. Breath in some fresh air. Naps in the afternoon. Things I'm looking forward to.