mom always tells me that i never get to finish anything that i started.
she’s uncontested being right all the time about it. try to ask her of all the gadgets i have brought home trying to convince her of an artistic outcome of it when after a mood swing, worthless crap piles up.

i always convince my self that it’s not me who’s to blame. it is the personality that i am born with as predestined by the stars and signs. i tell my self that it is a systemic way of the elements of the universe conniving to follow the natural patterns of existence.

many a times have i tried overturning that belief knowing that such things should be discounted if the full extent of the human capacity will be debated. however, even though this is unhealthy to admit, in all those attempts, the universe has a mysterious way of keeping itself attuned to its predetermined ways.

surprisingly, my human capacity is always anxious about what can’t be done. and the idea of loosing to a hypothetical design of human behavior is disheartening.

its already 2008. i need to start turning the piles up. i need to finish this or else… i will be another oblivious suspect of a passive nonresistance.