I’m kinda disappointed in myself. I’ve realised I kinda suck at finishing things I start.
For example, in the month-long winter break I just had, I had planned to continue the story I am writing or perhaps start another one. I ended up doing neither and instead bummed around like a proper college kid with no agenda.
Also, I started a baby book for my niece when she was 3 months old. She’s nine months ol now and I still havent added any new pages or pictures. What a horrible aunt I am. I’ll try to make it up to her by helping her sneak out of teh house when she’s 15 and grounded.
There are a myriad more things on the list of things I haven’t finished. I come with all these little projects in my head, but then I get too lazy or can’t be bothered enough to actually carry them out. That little push I’m always waiting for just doesn’t come.
It’s like I’m always stuck at 0. We’ve always been taught that the number 0 stands for nothing. It’s death, empty hollow, filled with nothingness. Whereas the number 1, well, it stands for EVERYTHING, everything that the 0 is not.
But lately, I learnt that 0 ain’t so bad. Even thought it’s typically thought to signify nothing, it, in fact, stands for a whole lot more. The 0 may be empty, but it contains the POTENTIAL for everything. The 0 has within it the Potential to become the 1. So in actuality, 0 is the beginning of life, the beginning of everything that the 1 is.