Goldfish

Sometimes I have the attention span of a goldfish. Constantly distracted by a million things, my thoughts linger on a chess board with me too lazy to take my turn, jumping from one piece to another before I make my move. Sometimes I leave books unfinished (it’s embarrassing), homeworks half done and more recently I kept on devolving my attention between this movie I’m watching and this awesome music in my ipod.

So yeah, maybe I’m good at procrastinating and being distracted. But I do follow a routine that is sort of programmed in my system. Like I vacuum thrice every two weeks, order milk tea every other day and yeah read my bible before I go to sleep, nothing distracts me from doing those things (at times).

I go to school early and study for Criminal Law as if my life depended on it. I write in my journal when I feel like it, everyday or something like that. Perhaps, life is offering too much choices on how we spend every second that we spend more time thinking on what to do rather than actually doing it. I mean some, most, I don’t know but I think a number of people spend more time finding who they are than, you know, actually being themselves.

I seriously want to be focused on things, giving them my undivided attention as if for two or three hours they’re all that mattered. However, I also want to let them go as soon as they pose no threat to my well deserved reflex of emotion.

Right now I’m distracted, while writing this I hear the epiphany of crickets outside my room, the rush of rain tapping on the roof as if they were voices asking me a thousand things about myself and this temporary life. Too temporary for that matter, I hear my own thoughts pacing back and forth like an unsure soldier.

Like going to war, without knowing how it ends I risk the selfishness of peace by entertaining every thought as part of a struggle, then again no war was ever won by lack of choices.