I realized why i don’t enjoy being in my room as i once did; now i have things to worry about, my future, the idead that i an wasting my youth, the idea i am doing nothing productive, that i’ll rot away here. When i was a child i could spent hours and hours alone doing nothing, watching the moon, reading because i had nothing to worry about, not a single thought passed through my mind telling me that i was wasting time.
No matter how hard or gentle i try to enjoy the moment im living in, i can’t. I always worry about the future, or remember the past.