Why Do I Even Bother Novels & Stories

Just one of those intense moments with Mum, I guess. She’s right, though. This is the first call-back interview I’ve gotten in months. Months of rejection emails, ignored applications, and polite silences. The job doesn’t pay much but it’s something. It covers a few bills. It gives me purpose again. It reminds me that I’m more than just surviving. As I finally lie down in bed, exhaustion pulling me under, one thought lingers quietly in my mind Tomorrow matters. And for the first time in a long while, I let myself hope

Everyone is so busy focusing on their own lives. They don’t even give you a single glance because they already forgot who you were and they can do it with the same speed that you can’t. No one is going to ask you about your day and you can live your life without a care in the world as long as it isn’t something that they actually cared about so they never asked in the first place. Nobody will even look at you as long as you aren’t crying or having a panic attack. And if you are still here after they finally do, then they will probably ignore you for several months and maybe even longer because it won’t really change anything, they can just forget again as easily as ever. They will move on wi

It’s a distraction, but one I welcome because I don’t want to face the question that’s been haunting me. What the hell do I do now?

I just sat home and read a book, shared a picture or two, and made people wish they were me for a bit. I was getting bored. What was taking him so long? It was probably someone's case he was working on. I constantly had to remind myself that this was official, and I wasn't the only person in the world with something worth investigating. People had way worse problems. I tapped my empty glass and hummed to one of the songs on my playlist.

I don’t need to win the competition, I just need to survive it, beat that psycho and quit the street fighting life forever. The problems I have were enough to keep me occupied for a while, taking away any which takes away the reasons to street fight. I can just pick off any of Dom's followers to beat whenever I feel like punching someone. If I was to be honest with myself, I was exhausted with all these dramas and conflicts. I wish that one day, it’ll all go away without me needing to face them. But, of course, that almost never happens. I needed to face it.

A version who is tired of being pressed into a mold that does not even fit. Honestly, I kind of like her. "I have more important things to deal with," I finish. "Like my mental health. Thinking about pointless things affects my mental health, because then all I think about who people can live without using their brains." I turn on my heel and walk out of the hall. If I had long hair, I would flip it over my shoulder. In my mind, I still do. Take that, old hamster. But I freeze when I reach the doorway.

“Do you want me to prescribe you something like last time?” “Maybe, I don’t know,” I shrugged as I sat back on the couch, feeling frustrated with myself for not knowing what I want or what to do with my life. Sometimes I wondered why I even bothered to put much effort in anything I did and other times, living seemed like it was a great idea. “I feel like I still don’t know who I am or what I want and he just seems to complicate things.”

I dоn’t need іѕ tо ѕреnd аnоthеr mоmеnt оf energy оn ѕоmеоnе whо won’t treat me wеll, but I саn’t hеlр mуѕеlf. Agаіn, I wоndеr аbоut оbѕеѕѕіоn, and whу thе tеntасlеѕ rеасh іntо every аѕресt of my lіfе.

My phone buzzes with messages, emails, reminders,but I ignore them all. I need to think. I need to figure out who the hell I can actually trust. Because suddenly, it doesn’t feel like that list includes anyone.

Must be nice to be so passionate and determined about your task that you don’t care about the outside world. I ponder my career and the fact that I don’t have a specific passion or niche. One that I'm so into that nothing else matters. At this point in my life, I’m in survival mode every day - at home, at work. I don’t have the time or energy for anything else. “What’s got you so worried?” A smooth voice interrupts my thoughts. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep but man, I’ve been blanking out all day. I can feel the heat on my cheeks, in the humiliation of being caught unaware again or because of the intense attention directed my way.