It’s 8:27pm on a work night and I’m exhausted. No, I didn’t involve myself in some strenuous workout at the gym. I’m just mentally tired from the constant worry in my head. I’m not unemployed, I don’t have kids to worry about and I have supportive parents to thank for letting me still live with them. I shouldn’t be worried about anything. But I can’t help myself from being stressed at the lack of success I’m supposed to be having. Isn’t this very selfish of me to think about? Why am I so impatient and why do I feel so entitled?
Is it normal to be stressed too much about life at twenty-five? I don’t want to be accused of believing so much in cliches, but is this what I think quarter life crisis is? Believe me, I really hate the mere mention of it but I can’t help but feel the pressure to do things. If not now, when? Again, why am I so impatient? Things can wait, can’t they?
Doesn’t success take years to reap? Besides, am I extremely hardworking to demand myself an early success? I’m so full of myself I should be ashamed. What do I expect success to be anyway?
Am I only feeling this way because I hate my current job? Or, am I only trying to better myself? Hey, that’s not a bad thing–at least I’m not complacent.
I just don’t know what to do. Why do I feel like I need to go back to school? Why do I feel it’s rational to spend money I don’t have, quit my job, and then maybe work part-time at Starbucks? Why is this urge so strong, when I know it doesn’t make sense to let go of a stable job that gives me generous money?
Is it wrong to look for more meaningful work? To look for something that could challenge myself than settle for a job I don’t truly believe in?
All these questions might be why I haven’t been sleeping very well lately. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel better?
between love & hate 
Someone once told me that the problem is, we measure ourselves using other standards when really, we should set our own standards because it’s our life; we’re the ones living it and we’re the only ones who have any right to judge it. There are times when I want to stop “playing it safe” and just go live in Europe or somewhere, away from the horrible, smothering smallness that is the Philippines but I don’t have the courage to just do it. I want to so break out of my comfort zone but at the same time, I’m afraid to disrupt it. I want to believe that now is the time to experiment, to fail miserably, to do whatever the hell I want, but there is always the fear of how it will affect my future. And I guess that’s really what holds us back.