Life is for the living. It's cliché to say, but it still has some truth after all these years. After years of being told this by some party animal after 10 vodka shots, sometimes this and other sayings like it echo in my head but its lost it meaning. Right now to me it means to go out and fail.
The hardest part of getting out and doing anything is the failure part. It feels so hard because there's always this idea that I've blown my chance, and it won't come around again. But then I wake up again the next morning.
Failure is not a force that stop me, because failure does not stop the world from moving. As long as the sun rises, I will wake up and move on. There's enough in my way to stop me from failure, from lack of focus to procastination to a simple chaotic world that doesn't care. If anything, failure is a time to stop and reflect.
The hardest part of failure is not having the answer to why it happened, and that answer isn't always there. Many times though it's not an obvious answer, at least not to me. From simply saying the wrong thing in a job interview, not knowing proper etiquette during a date, and sometimes just having a bad day. Or maybe I made a promise to post everyday, then fell behind.
And depression just sucks the big one, doesn't it? It just becomes so easy to get sucked in and dragged down. Obsessing over the details, letting the anxiety take hold.
I'm writing about this because I need the pick-me up. So often, I'll look at a task and think "Oh, this will be simple." And it never has been simple. Ever. If I wanted to lay back and just let life pass, then it would be simple. I guess in that instead, I would the type of person who blamed every problem on outside forces, feeling completely without control of my own life. Seeing how I make my own luck, I guess that's not the life for me.
I am hard pressed to think of getting second chances. There has been at least one, funny enough. I remember taking an AP writing class years ago in high school. I needed the English, but had no desire to take an AP class. It was the only available, and I had the grades and GPA to do it. We were supposed to write 3 papers before the class start. Me being the procrastinator I am, I never wrote the first paper. So I bullshitted it, wrote the other papers on time, and told the teacher that since I was a late comer to the class, I didn't have the time to write the first one. It worked, and I got a second chance to write the paper. Fuck me running, there is something to say for tenacity, right?
Ha, I just realized the last job I had was a second chance. This one was coming home after the first farm job I had completely imploded. I was looking for jobs, and I actually put an application in at Lambert Spawn. But I was deemed untrustworthy and unexperienced. 3 years later, I was passing through without a job again and was able to land the job for 5 years.
In the first instance, I had enough of a smooth tounge to talk my way into it, I guess. I probably had some decent written papers and the teacher had a soft spot. In the second instance, I had to go away, get more experience, and come back to prove myself. So try, try, try try again.
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