A Life With No Passion

"I never had anything to do in my life. All the years through childhood, all those years in school, and just nothing changes. It feels like I am on a speeding train, just watching my own pitiful life play by; I never really live in it. Why, you may ask? Simple: I just don't feel like doing anything. There is nothing that interests me enough to motivate me. Every day I am just lying on my bed, sitting at my desk, and wasting all my time away on some absolutely trash game or book. To describe it in the words of my father:

'Wake up, eat, sleep, and repeat.'

Occasionally, I do get some form of motivation, yet it never lasts long enough to actually amount to something. It's just an empty husk of promises to myself, or, in simpler terms, delusion. Unfortunately for me, even when it fails, even when I lose all interest and hope in something, it still is there. It's almost like a curse, always lingering where you can't see it. Now you may think, What could this aspect of life be?

Well, it's ambition.

The dream of attaining anything major surpasses my present self. A goal that is so uncertain in it's topic yet undeniable at the same time. However, instead of helping me, it only makes me even more frustrated.

'Why can't I just be as good as him?'

'Am I just too much of an idiot?'

'Why don't I pull through?'

All these thoughts and many more are plaguing me, poisoning my mind and my actions with negativity and baseless hate. 

Eventually, even though I never wanted to admit it, I hated myself for being such a foolish hypocrite. Because while I knew that I was just absolutely at the bottom concerning everything, I still lecture others, like my older brother, my parents, my friends, and even strangers, about life and the importance of having discipline and eagerness to achieve one's own goal.

I fucking despise this part of me." As I scribbled my last sentence on my piece of paper, I sighed heavily. I had hoped that writing about my own life might help me in my sorry state, but it only made me feel even more gross. Carefully looking around the class, I realized that the others were all concentrating on something.

Silently taking out a sheet of paper, I open up the history textbook on the third page. As soon as I stared at the text, however, I already knew. There was no way to finish this in barely 10 minutes.

'Well, I guess it was bound to happen anyway. I might as well read the material.' However, before I could doze off into the texts, somebody from behind me tapped me on the back. 

Turning around slowly, I see the face of someone even more bothersome than myself. 

I shook my head in a fast manner, signifying that I was ready to listen even though I was bothered by him. One of the few skills that I have is that I have mastered social gestures. I knew exactly what most people felt just by the way they moved, and I could also apply these movements myself. Others may call this just a mere signal, but I myself am quite proud of it, especially because there is not much else to be proud of. 

Anyway, what he wanted was to lend a pen. Because I appreciated harmony and balance in my social life, I, of course, did as he asked. Definitely not, because he was the ace of the football team, and his following would shred me apart if I refused.

He nodded as a sign of thanks and went on to do whatever he was doing in the first place. Probably one of the tasks, though I don't really care about him anyway.

After reading the material that we were supposed to work on, I took out a piece of paper and acted as if I were actively writing something. Though I still stayed humble, If I did too much, Mrs. Miller would notice and pick me up during comparison time. And that would be the doom of my freshly restarted school life.

I had hoped that the texts would be interesting or something I might have already looked at, but they were just useless policies of some of the economic models a European Empire once used. Not that I really care, though the chance of improvisation is now pretty much at an all-time low. All that's left is to pray to not be chosen as a sacrifice.

However, to my dismay, the instant the work period ended...

"Arwyn, please elaborate on how the market crash affected the civilian population as described in task one." The stare she gave me was almost one of disgust. Well, at least the class doesn't pay any attention. I should take that win.

Instead of being a coward, for once I decided to stand up and confidently reply with the best answer I could bless her with. Taking a deep breath, I exclaimed in the most neutral and plain way possible.

"I don't know."