There's this poem on Tumblr that's been going around. The first line is that "hope is a skill". I think I've regressed in that sense. I feel like I used to be naively optimistic, but I think it was because things have always worked out in my favour. It's easy to be optimistic when all you know is divine favour.
I'm anxious implying that I don't have that right now. And I hope that someday I'll read this and not be able to understand exactly what I mean by that.
I am exhausted. And I don't know that I know how to endure. They always say that endurance is more about the mind than the muscle. But you have to train both of them in order to have stamina.
I don't know how to feel hopeful when my dreams are being splattered with the mud that my wheels are spinning in. I'm so tired and I don't know how to be anything else. I don't know how to be anyone else.
Extroverted ADHD cousin moved in and I'm finally getting a taste of how annoying I am with my ADHD tendencies. WOW. I'm so sorry to everyone I've ever existed around I don't really blame you from ever cutting me off or abandoning me, I'm probably insufferable.
Pac: [While bouncing up and down on the side of the giant Snowman using his tentacle gun] Hi Ramon! Hi Ramon! Hi Ramon! Hi Ramon! Hi Ramon! Hi Ramon! Hi Ramon! Hi Ramon!
Pac: [In a sing-songy voice] Hello Ramon~ [In a deep voice] ALOHA! Aloha ohana!
Pac: Hi Ramon. 🥰
[Pac pronounces "Ramon" with an accent, which sounds like "Hamon"]