In the past three years, I don't think I've ever spent a single weekend without having a backlog of things I have to do in my head. All this time, my thoughts has always been occupied with this whirlwind of "Will I be able to make it in time?" or "Oh no, I haven't completed that one yet!" or "Why haven't I done that one yet?!"
...It's a little sickening now that I think of it.
I wrote 'in the past three years' but to be honest I actually have no idea how long it lasted. I kind of forgotten how long I was in this state of continuously being very efficient, consistently organized and in track of everything I do. It was as if I was walking on a tightrope and if I missed a single step, I will find myself slipping and falling over the edge.
I am sure none of the things I accomplished in that time period were in vain. In fact, they were probably absolutely good for me. The knowledge and life skills I picked up along the way was undeniably something to be proud of, something priceless enough to be traded with time.
Yet there is this slight grief. A slight grief that I could've been sleeping and resting that whole time, that I could've stayed pure and innocent, and not have to continuously try not to be corrupted by my own thoughts because the world was treating me so badly.
And so I find myself wanting to rest. Wanting to finally let down my wings and lie down on my bed and count the stars from the constellations in my head. I hope I don't find the Southern Cross or something. I'll end up wanting to find out where it leads to.
I guess I was just born curious, but I think travellers need to take a rest too.
I wonder how long will this break last.
