.Beautiful Disaster.

This week was one hell of a whirlwind rush
I felt compelled to put in effort,
I tried to produce but it fell short
Cos without the fire any effort was just uninspiring crap
Any endeavor just a dull process of means towards no end.

My academic desire to do well is dwindling
I just feel tired, slightly resigned, dried out of all willpower
I wanted so much to stay consistent, yet i lost focus mid-way
I feel like some kind of a wasted dreamer
Stuck in a cycle of endless constructions
Of idle thoughts and fanciful dreams

My dreary course pack stares back at me.
I start a few pages, the font seems to grow smaller
And suddenly everything bacomes one great big blank space
I flip, and flip, and flip to see where the article ends
Assess the thickness in between finger tips
Grumble, curse and swear

I feel inadequate.
But more often than not, i feel dispassionate.
I stand outside the rat race and feel detached from all of its idiocy
An alien amongst my contenders

If i could charge a dollar for the number of times i've asked myself
whether i was ever clever enough
whether i was ever motivated enough
whether i was ever even trying enough

I would have been dirrrrtttt rich by now.

But i love myself too much to allow negativity to eat me up from within
I spent all my life trying to break away from that
And i do not need anyone, nor any results to validate m.e.

Yet the deadlines loom
And my readings continue to beckon..
I turn off the Tv, close the magazines and switch off my mp3
Delayed gratification sucks.

Go to bed i must.
For i need to sleep this dreaded world away.