centripetal acceleration (aimless roundabouts)

I do not lack. I do not lack. I do not lack.

I need to psych myself up. Sinking lower into myself and just melting into a black pool of pessimism.
an abyss and an echo. Fading.

My father is so cute. He was helping me scan Calvin and Hobbes comics for my SIP, and he emailed me the soft copy and titled it "Calvin and Hobbies". He was such a dear to help me go to his office on a Sunday Afternoon to print and scan. (His boss better not see this, but seriously, office supplies are meant to be fully utilized!)

I should be studying now. I know my life shouldn't revolve around just mere words on a paper. In fact, I'm so much more than that right? It's just that I don't have time for myself, I try to convince myself. Everything I do in relaxation has something to do with words. Think a jellyfish flopped upon the sofa reading Time and The Strait Times. Depth and exploration shall come after the exams. I ought to be satisfied with what I'm receiving. But somehow, it does not fill me as I expected it would.

I want to pirouette my worries, my troubles, my trepidation of the future away away away. Triple turns, one time.

I wonder where I lost myself. Is there still passion in me? Can I still carry the fire? How far? I feel so incompetent compared to so many people. I don't need to be good at everything, I just want to be particularly good at something.

I do not lack, right?