I'm sitting at Baillieu right now, utterly refusing to face the fact that I have a 30% Spanish paper to sit for tomorrow at the Royal Exhibition Building at 2.15pm. I have come to realize that at every start of a new journey, I am almost always brimming with hope and determination and then somehow halfway down the road that fiery passion begins to diminish and by the time the end of the path presents itself, I'm already all blown out.
The result is not achieving anything that I've planned to, not even close.
I guess I'll just have to let this one slip by again.
When I woke up today, it suddenly hit me that in 30 more days I'll be turning twenty, leaving my teen years behind and again, embarking on a whole new journey. Looking back at the past year since my last birthday, I'm glad to say that my 19th year in life has been rather smooth-sailing. Maybe I'm just not cut out for big things, or maybe I just can't be bothered pursuing bigger ambitions in life.
But with time, I face a startling revelation. In one month's time I'll be twenty and I cannot afford to just cruise by life anymore. I really need to pick up the slack and gather myself.
Sigh, let's just hope this is not another meaningless end of another mundane tunnel.
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