I think I am having a quarter-life crisis and in my head, I walk this bridge every single day, only to end up on the very same point where I have started to trod.
Bad decisions make good stories.
I am once again, as what I have told my friends this morning, withdrawing from the world. And I am afraid that I am so damn good at it. I go with the flow like a dead fish can keep up with the stream.
I am seeking for challenge, but now that challenge is starting to pick up a fight with me, I walk the other way. Chicken. And I want to tackle the farther road to be happier, but the thought of me being gone from my usual space would surely leave a dent in several lives. I want the easy, breezy way of life. You know, sipping cocktails in bikinis by your pool side while your secretary updates you with your cash flows.
Yes, I am lost. In my pretty, tumblr-y slash pinterest-y kind of {made-up} world.
And this so far from the me before. I always know what to do. These past few months, I am a wayward muse. I have formed a penchant for being a yuppie nomad. I am uninspired. News Flash. The impeccable daughter is now a blithe damsel {in distress}.
I want to love. I want to help. I want to give. I want to write. I want to kiss. I want to jump. I want to snorkel. Maybe my problem is wanting so many things, dreaming of several personas of me.
I have to figure it out one of these days. I shall figure it out.
But, for now, I give in to this feeling and spend my nights having Pretty Little Liars and The Vampire Diaries Marathons.