A Graveyard Kind of Life

     Why do I feel like every point in my life, every single thing that motivates me, somehow feels like a hole dug out for me? I might be wrong about this, and I have no issues with people who think that I might be. But it’s just something that has kept me awake most night. Maybe a lot less frequent than that, nonetheless, when something serious bothers you even if it’s just for a night and it goes unsolved, the thing will keep bothering for the following night, haunting you, looking over your shoulder, shadowing your every thoughts and decisions.


     Sorry, I think I’m straying from my main point.


     What I was saying is that, college feels like a grave.


     Friends feel like a grave.


     Priorities feel like a grave.


     Family feels like a grave.


     Work, even thought I still don’t have one yet, feels like a grave.


     And my life is like a graveyard full of holes, waiting to bury me in.


     Or maybe parts of me are already in those graves.


     Maybe it’s just me allowing myself to be consumed by these negative thoughts, but no one can know for sure and no one can really escape forever. And each obstacle you cannot get through, each crucial situation you cannot solve, each burden you’re given, each decisions you can never take back, each mistake you cannot undo, those are like shovelful of dirt being thrown into you.


     Hope has kept me going, clawing my way out of those tombs even with my broken nails and mouth opened for a scream but full of dirt. And optimism has kept me thinking that I will make it out of these holes.


     But there are things that make me realize that I will never come out of these graves, that digging my way out will  never stop, the shovels will never be put down, the dirt will never stop coming, and it’s just only a matter of time before I grow tired and eventually let myself be buried. Finally be at rest.


     Forever.

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