rêves d'une âme perdue: inclined confusion

I need to write to just write. This is an exercise for me. I don't have to write pretty for anyone. I don't always have to do something for someone else.

I need to accept that sometimes, it's okay to be selfish. There's always a line for moderation: don't be too weak, but don't be too condemning. Seeking the perfect balance is a challenging task. I am having so much difficulty finding inner-pece within myself.

This past week has been mundane. Each night brings out a self-destructive anxiety attack. I stay up for hours to look for whatever is missing in my life. I look for meaning. I look for something, anyything for motivation to continue to work.

Thinking about the future is nice. Thoughts about the future transform into the fundamental basis for goals. But sometimes, we need something in the present to keep us focused. I am looking for that. I am hoping to find that not everything I do will be useless later. I am looking for some sense of worth.

The search continues. Another night of anxious feelings.