It lies not in your Xbox and it lies not in your bank account. It lies not in your stacked girlfriend and it lies not in your funky friends. It lies partially in marijuana and it lies comfortably in shrooms. But of all,
It lies in believing - believing that it gets better.
We push through our lives on that promise that things get better.
If I do A (work 9 - 5, do the household chores, attend a course), I will get B (a salary, a nice fuck when my partner comes home, a new pretty line on my resume).
On the long term horizon, you have C (afford a house and car, keeping the house tidy enough for him/ her to shut up about it, personal upgrade and now I'm better than my relatives and neighbors).
It is the very basis of what society does.
Makes sense right. Why would you do something today to fuck up tomorrow? Of course you do something today that helps tomorrow. And why? Because tomorrow is a promise.
Tomorrow you could wake up with Beyonce's voice (no you won't) or Megan Fox's body (ha no you won't), tomorrow is a promise, a promise of a better day.
We cannot convince the world to live in the present, because it simply isn't feasible.
You see, the present contains immediate factors. The present can be manipulated (or adversely, is controlled) by annoying factors such as laziness, lack of funds, bad time management.
I could go fly a kite now, because I want to take a nice instagram picture. I could go photograph all my stocks now for carousell, because I want to start my sales early. I could go windsurfing right now, because I want to improve myself.
But I won't. In fact, chances are I won't do any of those three.
It is because it is easy to waste the present. The present is hard (and yet ironically, the easiest) to change. Aiya I'll just eat this potato chip, the Nicole tomorrow will get veggies. Aiya I'll just bookmark these job search sites, the Nicole tomorrow will send the resumes.
Tomorrow is a promise.
It is the most powerful promise there is.
Unfortunately, that is all it will ever be.
Charles Bukowski once said that we are but millions of stale lives, stacked against each other in disgusting limpness, destined to lead lives so mind-numbingly boring they would do put spear-fishing ancestors to shame. In his failure, he declared the rest of the world equally hopeless.
But now that we are enlightened, perhaps we could do something about it.
Perhaps I would get arsed enough to take photographs of my shipment and upload them, facing (instead of postponing) my crippling fear that I may have spotted the wrong goods to bring in.
Perhaps I would get arsed enough to make myself pretty and take a nice photo, which would lead to me feeling better even if the situation looks the same.
Perhaps I would get arsed enough to beautify my resume and submit them across all my bookmarked sites, instead of leaving it to tomorrow because I am terrified of the rejection I will face.
It gets better Nicole. It gets better simply because it is the truth of this universe. It is the simple truth to life. It gets better Nicole. And you have to be there to see it.
It gets better.
My god I cannot express the freedom writing brings me. God I love writing.
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