My parents are constantly asking me for the so-called “The Next Step”. As always, I tell them “I’ll think about it”, and off they went, spouting rants about being passive, delaying my decisions, not striking the iron while it’s hot.
I can’t blame them, though, but sometimes it ticks me off. They wanted me to become immersed in an impulsive environment where ultimatums are necessary.
And I hate that word. I am the type of person who weighs every aspect before acting out.
And they call me procrastinating.
If procrastinating is a degree program, maybe I’ve gotten my post-grad degree already.
For the last five years I have been procrastinating because:
1. I have been pressed to act quickly.
2. I have been feeling quite lost and don’t know alternative actions.
3. Having the constant manifestations of being OC; and
4. Just to move on.
Paradoxically, I’m trying to make amends with my real self in order not to be boxed in. But it backfired. Somehow I landed a job, but pursuing my postgrad studies is currently a big conundrum to me. Turns out, I ended up being sorry and hating myself.
I guess that somehow the ‘now’ that I am living doesn’t present any breakthroughs (since my fatal flaw is procrastination), but I get insights everyday.
Perhaps I’m not very prepared to take the risk because I’m still immersing into the adult world; closing the gap where I have to set aside my passivity to make time-bound decisions.
Perhaps I want to take things in my own pace, not letting everyone box me in.
Perhaps I have learned to be particular so that I won’t be questioned.
Or perhaps I’m just too lazy to move my head from my blue-patterned pillow.
late night spouting nonsense really triggers my frustrated-writer-with-ulcer mode. Well anyways, will redo and reupload when my senses are descattered. ✌