I don’t understand how some people can do the same thing over and over again, every single day, without getting bored.
The most I can do is a few weeks after that I feel like I’m trapped.
Like I need something new in my life.
I guess that’s why I haven’t accomplished anything yet.
And why I probably never will.
I will most likely end up being a chronic underachiever for the rest of my life.
And all because I can’t stick to one thing for more than a few weeks.
That’s my curse.
It’s not something I’m proud of.
It’s not something I brag about.
It’s the truth.
I’m a failure.
Always have been.
And I always will be.
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Categories: flash fiction