Well this is depressing. Baju keje dah ketat macam apa. I don't feel so good about myself no more. Problem is I lack the drive, the one thing that carried me through when my limbs have deserted me way way way back. I lack that old drive that's transformed the fat, insecure kid from the picture above to that still slightly insecure, albeit with a little less fat kid I was and perhaps still am - minus the kid part.
It also doesn't get helped by the fact that I pretty much can't use my left leg as I used to as much as I'd like to after that fateful bike accident almost a year ago, speaking of which, is just 10 days away from a year anniversary.
I don't like this state. I hate it in fact. Its just that its sooo frustrating to think that I can achieve all that I want just by hitting the treadmill and push my limit like its nobody's biznez as I always have when I hit that borderline picturisky (yep, picturisky, NOT picturesque) state. In fact its the only thing I know to do when faced with volcanic gastronomic explosion - when you ate everything and anything that smells like Ajinamoto and whatnot.
And its frustrating to know that you perhaps won't be able to do any of those heavy, ground hitting cardio exercise that have been paving your ways to the road of self esteem or at least, something that looks like it. Trying other methods of exercise is frustrating due to the fact that it takes twice the effort with only half the result, second. But more than anything, it is the fact that you're admitting that you're in a way handicapped - unable - helpless - call it what you may - its admitting defeat. Which in turn, turns you away from any sort of trying - which trust me, as frustrating as it may sound, would at least save me from feeling that long, eerie road of recovery might just be too long for you, in your current state. Simply put, to avoid from feeling disappointed by trying - I thus, resort not to try at all.
Which is still frustrating like fuck. I'm twisted. Don't remind me twice. I know.