a few days ago, i thought i lost all hope, but then i surprisingly gained some back. i wouldn't call it amazing (how amazing can anything be when you're sleep deprived, frustrated, and under extreme pressure? i assure you, not very), but it was definitely a coincidence of an interesting sort.
this time it's different. i've stopped praying for a miracle. i'm not even praying for this tough time to pass by. i'm not even resigned to the fate of my project. resignation implies some kind of sad acceptance. no. definitely not resigned.
i think i just don't care.
it's happened before, but not very often. it happens very rarely. and when it does, it does include some kind of depression. but this time, i'm making sure it's different. this time, i'm neither sad nor depressed.
i've always been the sort to hide my negative feelings behind a veil of humour or mirth. but deep down, i know that i can't hide from the feeling.
this time, it's different. i'm not even sad. i'm happy. i laugh at other people's jokes, even crack some of my own, because i really feel happy. i feel liberated.
i feel like i've conquered the ultimate fear: the fear of failure. the fear of ridicule.
now that i think of it, failure and ridicule aren't even things to be afraid of. i need them both. preferably in healthy doses, but then i don't complain when i overdose on say booze or chocolates or music, right?
i think i've lost the war, but shall win the battle.
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