A Contemplation of Short Stories

Going through the motions

I keep moving forward . Or at least I think I am. I really can't tell any more. I do what needs to be done everyday but it still isn't enough. There is still more to do tomorrow, all stuff I should've done yesterday and yet I still don't have time for it today.

And everyone tells me that I'm doing great, that I'm doing fine, that I'm doing great for my age. But I look around and I'm not doing great. They are others who have better chances at getting somewhere in life, better goals and ways to accomplish them. More support and safety nets in case their perfect planning fails.

And I'm still stuck here. Pushed and set behind by things far out of my control. Losing sleep and my childhood faster than I can blink. Faster and faster I'm pushed to be better, pushed into adulthood. I cram in the time for lessons and shove them in my brain, the quicker, the better. The faster I get to where I'm going, the better. But I can't.

I can't keep up. I shove in what they tell me I need to know and when one thing goes in, the previous gets shoved out to make room. I need to sit back and relax, reset, but there just isn't time to fully reboot, to recover. Each day is just a drag to the next and the work just keeps coming.

And soon you find that the people you thought you had impressed really just expect more, always more. More school, more sports, more clubs, more chores, more family time, more and more and more.

And you try, you really do, to give more. And then you're burnt out. And you take your rest that you know you worked and given your all for, only for them to come in a talk about how much harder it was for them as kids. How weak you were being, how little you were doing, and what more you could add to the list of what you are already swamped with.

So you get up. You pull off the charger prematurely and you pick up the list. The list of things you've been saddled with, whether liked it or even knew it or not.

You push on. Half charged, mentally broken, physically expended, but with a list of things to do, that you have to get done.

And so you push on. Not feeling anything, just doing. Accepting criticisms without flinching, applying changes where the need to happen, and accepting praise when appropriate, but never feeling the joy of accomplishing what you've done.

It's weird. Going through the motions. You don't feel anything when you do. You're moving but going nowhere. Standing still but still going to fast.

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Blah blah blah, etc. Voting, sharing, commenting, who has the time? Not me. XD
But if you do, then feel free.