free-writing on this random afternoon.
for the past three days, i have not had decent sleep.
i close my eyes at 11, but i know that i am just fooling myself, because sleep has become so evasive, and my thoughts are in constant disarray. before i know it, our rooster is already up and awake, everyone is preparing for work, and i am already a mess at six in the morning.
in my past life, I once read in reader's digest that a restful sleep can be feigned by just resting your eyes. that even when you don't fall into deep sleep but your eyes are closed for a minimum of nine hours, then you are fine.
but i am not fine.
i get cranky each time. because my head hurts. my eyes are red. and my temper flares at just the smallest of things.
what is wrong with me?
and even when i get excited because at least this exhaustion may possibly translate into my early sleeping later on in the night, i get disappointed each time.
because it's like my body is exhausted, yes, but it does not tire of exhaustion. it just wants to be tired, but it is incapable of tiring away this tiredness.
what is bothering me? and why are my thoughts this rebellious?
perhaps, it is the thought that finally, after 10 long years of procrastination and over-indulgent exploits, my life has a semblance of order.
yes, it took me over 10 years to finally finish college (but i worked for four years in certain periods of this time frame) -- but after finally having earned my stamp of academic finality through my college diploma, i am again venturing out into another journey.
law school awaits.
i remember that every time someone asked me before what i wanted to become when i grow up, my instant answer was: to be a lawyer. my kindergarten, elementary, and high school yearbooks are testaments to this boyish arrogance of law being tailor-suited for me.
and deep within the trappings of my heart, i know that this passion still burns within me. that this is the only remnant of that once arrogant and bullish young dreamer who has already been broken to the world. that it is my only connection to the little boy who has since been heartbroken, soul-ripped, and disenchanted with the futility of promises.
perhaps, this anxiety stems from lingering questions that constantly plague me:
can i really slug it out and complete it within four years?
am i still capable of challenging my brain and pushing it to its limits?
have i really learned to be disciplined and can i temper my innate laziness?
am i good enough?
even when i long for simplicity in my life situations right now, i know that i am secretly scared with the prospect of establishing order in my life. for 26 years, chaos has been the constant theme of my life. but i loved this chaos. it was chaos that was organized. chaos that was esoteric to me. and above all, it was my chaos.
but right now, i feel as though i am slowly being channeled into a path that has a distinct finish line and a definite end goal.
and because of this, i am both petrified and excited. inherently anxious, but perennially optimistic.
i just hope i am good enough.