Reading "Crime & Punishment" again. To have someone to relate to.
Nah, nah.. Not in the sense of sinking too deep to the point of conjuring a plan of murder for noble reasons. But because ..
"He had become so completely absorbed in himself, and isolated from his fellows that he dreaded meeting, not only his landlady, but anyone at all. He was crushed by poverty, but the anxieties of his position had of late ceased to weigh upon him. He had given up attending to matters of practical importance; he had lost all desire to do so."
I used to excel in school, always at the top of things, and I, too, recognize my own potential, but just like Raskolnikov, not only do I fail to see any direction in my life, but I also have no fuel nor desire to take even just a tiny step forward.
Where do I get it?
How do others get it?
Where do they get the drive?
Of course, Raskolnikov has his life so much harder than mine, which is another reason I picked up the book again to begin with. To remind myself that..
Although we're both burnt-out smart kids, my life is not hard at all.
Because it isn't.
It's only hard for me because never in my life have I experienced the struggles of working so hard—for I am a slave to my pleasures and the indulgence of comfort.
Now a lot may say I'm so lucky and perhaps it's true—perhaps I am—but doing nothing only feels nice when you're young; when you don't have to worry as much about your future and the obligations that come along with growing up. As you get older, the feeling of being a burden starts to creep in. And with time, it only gets heavier.
And indeed, time is upon me and it demands change. But having been sequestered from the struggles of the outside world for a long, long time.. change terrifies me. And being dependent all my life.. makes me hate responsibilities. Oh, but how I hate them so much ..
Sometimes, I blame my parents for what I've become. Especially my dear mother. We don't live a luxurious life nor are we at all rich but growing up, she spoiled me and tolerated my laziness which has now taken the serious and most hideous form of ennui and indolence. Even until now, that tolerance and indulgence to my selfishness and apathy still goes on. As a result, I am nowhere near accustomed to living a hard life so becoming a normal adult is still a scary step for my pathetic and lackadaisical arse. Sometimes, I get a burst of motivation to finally get out of my comfort zone but at the end of the day, I always shrink back to the safety of its walls because I'm weak and a massive coward.
I go to interviews just to make it seem like I'm doing something but in my mind, I pray I don't get hired. That's why I don't get nervous in front of the interviewers. That's why I wasn't afraid of fucking things up.
"Okay, so… You've been hired before and you didn't show up .. And now you're going to interviews again to not get hired—what the hell is wrong with you?" Lancelot asked in complete bewilderment whilst I was waiting for the next interviewer in the meeting room about two months ago.
"I know, I know.." I agreed in pathetic hopelessness. "What is wrong with me? Why am I like this? I feel so bad cos I'm just wasting their time.."
"What do you want exactly?"
"I don't know!" I whined in a burst of frustration and confusion.
He chuckled, finding affectionate amusement to my misery. "You're such a baka. Why are you such a baka?"
I looked around the room for cameras, afraid they could hear what we were talking about. Didn't find one in sight, but..
"I have to hang up now."
"Alright. Good luck on.. not getting the job. You weirdo."
It was during that interview I made up my mind that I really don't want to work. At all. For someone. For anyone. No one. And it's such selfish thinking because I know I have to. I can't rely on my family my entire life.
But gosh, the way they rambled on and on about the responsibilities of my role ..
Eight hours a day. Back and forth. Only one fucking day off…
Fuck. I could already imagine myself coming home so drained and planning ways on how to kill myself before I fall asleep. Nope. I don't want any of that shit.
I found myself reflecting hard after that interview but only because the second interviewer got so personal, it was as if I was at therapy. I couldn't wait not to see his face ever again.
Everything feels the same but at that moment, I felt a slight change in me. Nothing grand, but, knowing myself, it was a little surprising.
I never thought seriously about marriage, nor did I think I would ever get married, but with all the introspection I did, I realised something I never imagined myself to be.
I realised I just want to be a housewife. With maid-servants.
Gah. Why did mom have to spoil me like this? Maybe if she had been a little hard on me, let dad get his way, I'd prolly be hard-working right now. But no. They shaped and disciplined my older sister just fine and when it came to the next child, they had gone somewhat lax about it. And now I've grown up to be the laziest person in the world who has surrendered to failure. No goals. No dreams. No plans. Nada. Instead of shooting for the stars, I just wait around for lightning to strike the living shit out of me. Either to die, or get superpowers if I'm lucky.