I hope some day my melodramas get to be distilled into a book. I began to flourish again by the end of my last vacation. Nonetheless, my tendency to problematize my situation gets the upper hand at times.  My own attitude was starting to foretoken a sad outlook for me. Not only did I rebuffed invitations to go out with my own parents for instance, but also avoided answering my friends calls. My bedroom walls may be plastered with English phrases. Notwithstanding, if I do not get to practice them what is the point?. How do I expect to become an adroit educator someday if I remain secluded indoors wanting to be unsure of myself? To recast the aforesaid question, am I going to reprieve my own suicidal thoughts once in for all? Insteado of stopping my mind from racing each night, I should be out looking for a job. I tend to be a person who thinks too much on the what ifs. My brother on the other hand is a different kettle of fish. Besides, I think that my constant nagging are starting to grate on everyone´s nerves. Am I have been the one who has allowed my health to descend into a bad state. Ergo, my own actions are the only thing that can dispel my depression.

If I were a public figure, and were to get censured for my irresponsibility, I would have killed myself by now. I want to wake up every day and put on clothes that do not jar with each other once again. I want to make people laugh with my bon mots once more.  Further, I need to be the one I once was, but better. What is more, living in this godforsaken city requires you to keep your wits around you all the time. One of the things I have to start off doing one more time is prioritize my tasks.Do I wan to utter a few impolitic remarks regarding my stupidity. But it is not worth it to expose myself  to ridicule. There is one efficacious remedy that is going to change my life. It is believe it or not my own attitude.  Have I learned that feeling melancholic about myself is pointless. Jigging up and down or going in and out of the house like fiddler´s elbow is a waste of time. Do I have to learn to incentivize myself to carry on. If I want to become anywhere near as successful as the people I idolize, I am going to have to get into gear. I swear that from now on, I will comply with the binding promise I made to myself not to feel sorry for myself anymore. Was I missing out on a lot by crinkling my face with tears. I am going to refuse myself from feeling unfit to live anymore because I have not right to turn my dinky problems into a nightmare. Lastly, I have to confess that I would rather be extoled as a fighter by the end of my life than anything else.