Muddled thoughts

I could not seem to organize how my day would take shape. It just unfolds, usually under procrastination. It bothers me how my self-admitted lack of passion for life can undermine the dreams I had for myself when I was younger. This is just not it, I thought.

Facebook kills me too. Or maybe my competitive spirit is still there, and seeing my cohorts progress in Facebook gets me down. That could have been me. What am I doing with my life? Then another voice says, "Why are you too harsh on yourself? Haven't you read tons of memes online telling you not to take life too seriously? Worry kills life, you know." Damn it.

I crawl further into the dark. I think of quitting Facebook, leaving all these nasty sites that screams being cool is when people see you're having a blast in life, in photos or status updates, and that the number of likes you get is proportionate to your "coolness."

I used to be that person. And somehow, a part of me still wants to be that "sociable" again. But there are people there that I am uncomfortable now interacting with. They have hurt me - or should I say, I have let them hurt me. But I couldn't delete them. They were my friends, they made me happy.

It bothers me now that I have this as a problem. But it is. I need to recognize it.

If there's a thing I should have taken seriously in life, maybe that would be turning into a Buddhist monk.