Dear Diary,
Have you ever felt like you’re just… a walking disappointment? Like you were made with the wrong settings and now life keeps crashing around you? Yes that’s how I feel right now
Sometimes I wonder: if I had chosen a scientific path, would I still feel like I’m being slowly buried in wet cement? Maybe. But at least I’d understand the chemical process behind it.
Will I ever make a good decision? Unlikely. But who needs sound judgment when you have blind optimism and chronic self-doubt holding hands like toxic soulmates?
God, I feel stupid. Not the light, forgetful kind the kind that settles deep in your chest and makes everything feel pointless. The kind where you look back at every choice and realise you never really stood a chance. Everything is falling apart, slowly, quietly, and I’m just here, holding the pieces because I don’t know what else to do.
But here’s the kicker: I haven’t wronged anyone. Not a soul. I’ve held doors open. I’ve returned pens. I didn’t even cheat in group projects. So why does it feel like life keeps throwing rocks at me?
If I’d chosen a scientific field, maybe I’d be miserable with a lab coat on. You know, the kind of suffering that at least looks good on a résumé. Instead, I’m failing at something that doesn't even impress my parents.
I am so stupid, Diary.
Utterly, irredeemably stupid.
Like the kind of stupid that future generations study and go, “Ah. That’s where it all went wrong.”
Anyway, I’ll go cry now.