The cost of what you do

As I  battle my constant internal struggles, or rather, as I indulge in them, I realise that I’m paying for my addictions with my very life. Right now, a DS game has captured my attention-and kept it for more than 5 hours. It was hard to stop playing. Although I couldn’t fathom why I wanted to keep playing; my eyes stung, my back ached after being hunched over the screen, my work awaited, and the worst part is, well, it wasn’t even entertaining. It’s like I was only torturing myself because it was supposed to be fun, not that it was actually fun. So I kept playing, trying to get to better levels so I could taste that fun.

It never came.

And so right now, in the midst of my various unopened textbooks, I’ve come to realise I’ve fallen. I’m standing on burning coals intentionally, which is absurd. And in this moment, with nought but the deep silence of the room, the hum of cars moving outside, and the distant sound of water falling, have I come to know that I am better than this. I’m so much better than what I do. I need to strive so that my actions are complementary to who I am. So that my core values are not banished or compromised  in the knot that is life.

So my life doesn’t bleed out every time I do something that I don’t want to do.

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