This past week I've been having trouble with life in general and trying to catch up with the hand of time that's always been ticking way before I was born. I've been tripping and scraping my knees trying to win a race that has already started even before I took a breath. Life wouldn't be interesting if it was a road without bumps, but this isn't the thought that truly comes to our mind when we are going through hoops and jumping over hurdles. So I took the time to sit down on one of the only days I was free from all the school work and wrote about one of my longest frenemies, difficulty.
Here is a journal entry from earlier today. I haven't picked up a pencil in a while, but everything seemed to flow out fluently like I've never put down my journal in the first place. I miss writing. I miss having time to myself like I did that day...I hope I get to sit in my room doing whatever came to mind until my mom's calling me down for dinner. It feels a little weird not having that convenience anymore.
Old journal pages with weird doodles reflecting my messy state of mind.