Ecclesiastes

I think the realization that life is fucking hard is only now really dawning on me. Until now, everything had been pretty much handed to me or obtained with minimal struggle. For whatever reason, only now has the true nature of struggle become a reality for me, before it was always just soundbite I quoted from Ecclesiastes.

I'd be lying if I didn't say I was really, really scared. Decades of toil. The very thought numbs me in a very undesirable way. My heart shudders and falls from the cloistered fortress that had previous hidden me from life's reality.

I feel like such a fucking kid. I'm 24. When my mom was my age she already had a fucking kid, and I'm still here moping in my room like some dumb-fuck teenager.

I guess I don't blame people for not giving a shit. I suppose it's hard enough to focus in order to keep one's own life in order. But, it would be nice if.... well I'm not going to go there.

Someone today said that life is slow. Truly, at times, it seems interminable, moving at a snail's pace. For me, it is now, during this interglacial period between obligations and deadlines, when that definitely seems to be the case.

This post is shit, where is the overarching narrative? Nowhere to be seen. This is why I'm in fucking science.