Champions aren’t made in gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them - a desire, a dream, a vision. They have to have last-minute stamina, they have to be a little faster, they have to have the skill and the will. But the will must be stronger than the skill.
I’m not blessed with a knack in communication. Oftentimes when I try to explain my thoughts, the meaning gets lost in the way and what comes out are merely fragments of the original. Even so, I find that writing is therapeutic for an over-thinker like me. Writing helps me unload some of the thoughts out of my head.
School starts again in roughly two weeks. The plans that I’ve made before the summer remain as they are – just plans. Weirdly, I don’t feel disappointed at all. Not that I didn’t try, but after some time I realized how futile they are. Maybe I should’ve made them more realistic and useful.
A lot of things happened within the past four months. I would be exaggerating if I tell you that I’m a different person now. But somehow, in some little way, I am. Or I’d like to believe so.
It’s ironic how when I’ve finally started to heal, that’s when I again have to face what has gotten me lost in the first place. I wish the days would press on longer. I would like to stay on this trance long enough for me to gain the necessary strength to keep at bay if not fight my demons.