Disheveled

At times, some words stick. I mean, I know this word. I've never used it in a conversation but yes, I know it.

Then one morning, while I'm still trying to run the sleep out of my eyes, it comes to me. Maybe I dream of something, I don't know. And it sticks, and it doesn't go away. One day, two days, a week. It stays in my mind.

Disheveled.
Is it because that's how our life is? It's not flawless, it's not a straight line, it's not a jog around the park. It's messy, and untidy and altogether so grown up. I'm no longer a child, yet I refuse to accept it. What am I then? I've never really introspected it. I feel like I've done everything the wrong way around my entire life. Acted too old in childhood, too mature in teenage and now I behave like a child. I did this when I should have done that. And the other way round.

I've locked myself quite a long time and thrown away the key. It's been a while I had a decent, witty, interesting conversation with people. I don't even know how to talk anymore. Is it too early for a mid life crisis? or too late? I never know.

Anything, I'm never sure. It's a consequence of knowing that "one can't know everything". And yet, obliviously confident people thrive. Not an iota of self-doubt though. My ability to hide is diminishing. And the shittiest part is that I'm not actually lacking for anything. Everything's fine. It really is. It's just not joyful anymore.

How would I invigorate myself when I have so fully sunk into inertia? I feel I have forgotten to talk, to chat, to write and to flirt maybe? ehe..kidding...or I'm not?

Inertia leads to regression. Hopelessness. How do I fight that? How do I not give up?
Arise, awaken, but how?

Growth is so painful, staying here even more so. Weep for the years lost, yet know that I will weep more for the years to come.

Guide me, teach me.
For God's sake, inspire me.