How hard are you trying?


How hard are you trying?

You wake up everyday. You try to change everything around you. You try becoming the guy you always wanted to. You make your tea, light a cigarette, read some fucking news and get ready for your work. You come back home, just like yesterday, with regrets that you had yesterday and you repeat the living shit out of this routine. How hard are you trying?

You keep telling yourself the goddamn lies which you’ve been telling yourself since two years. You keep postponing your goals in a false hope that something will magically make everything okay for you. You think of making a diary, a routine, some plans, a future. And you keep postponing. Not today. This Sunday.  Next Sunday. And on next Sunday, you forget. You forget everything you were planning to. And this next Sunday comes every Sunday. For months.

How hard are you trying?

You tell your parents, “Not this year, next year”. You tell your friends, “At the end of this year”. You tell yourself, “Tomorrow”. You start thinking that you are getting depressed. You stop making that morning tea. You start smoking two cigarettes. You stop reading the news. Whenever alone, you start crying. You fuck things up, intentionally. You start blaming your life. You start blaming everything. You stop socialising. You start avoiding people. You start becoming mean. Mean jokes is your thing now. You hurt people intentionally and say sorry which you never mean. You go to restaurants alone. You make the delivery guys laugh. You make your closed ones cry. You don’t want anyone to empathise with you.  You become your shadow. You disappear in darkness. In a hope of never coming back.

And a few Sundays later,  on a bright sunny day, you wake up again and ask yourself a question.

How hard am I trying?

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