Not One and The Same.

My calendar is so packed this month and next month… I feel fatigue just thinking about it. Right now trying to plan my fitness schedule in a concrete way is draining. I feel pre-lazy. But once it’s on my schedule, I follow through 100%. So it’s easier for me to permanently ink in my plans.

My predominant feeling these days is tired. Just plain tired. Not fully exhausted, not fully drained – just a little bit on the tired side.

I’ve been non-stop every day. Back to back plans for days and days. I hardly sleep on the weekends. And the weekdays are even more busy and the hours more limited and chance to recoup sleep slim.

I’m no longer unhappy but I’m not happy either. It would take too many words, too many emotions, just plain more than I have to explain. But interestingly I found this post in my archives and it makes me so incredibly angry because I know it reminds me of him.

Some quotes of interest to me this evening:

“Although I feel that my tragedy is the greatest in history—greater than the fall of empires—I am nevertheless aware of my total insignificance. I am absolutely persuaded that I am nothing in this universe; yet I feel that mine is the only real existence.”
— Emil Cioran, On the Heights of Despair
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— Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun
The same feeling of not belonging, of futility, wherever I go: I pretend interest in what matters nothing to me, I bestir myself mechanically or out of charity, without ever being caught up, without ever being somewhere. What attracts me is elsewhere, and I don’t know what that elsewhere is.

— E.M. Cioran

The one thing that was sustaining some slight possibility in my heart that love exists is gone, so very gone. And now I see the world through more cruel eyes than before. But I can accept the truth of reality with sad ease and from here forward exist only for myself.

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