Motavation is a hard thing to come by. it is like a small stone found in the forrest, somehting of some quality to you because you found it; and you wanted enogh to consider it special, beautiful. Let's say that this objects, the stone, round and perfect to the eye, becomes lost. There isn't much time invested to become worried over it's loss, and the care simply evaporates. To me, my sewlf esteem and motavation persistantly low, it seems to me that collections of those rocks pile up, gathering dust, and remaining grimy. Full of the origional dirt left in the creases. I do not care to clean the specks from the precious find; Instead, I will leave this in the windowsill, further to me moved to the desk, as it makes it's travel throughout the room, maybe even the house, I realize the idle nonsense in keeping the rock, and eventually it resumes it's natural settings once again.

My motavionion, (and dandy spelling as you can see) steps off of the porchsite as soon as an inkling of doubt shadows the mind, and heart. Not ever to certian, nor confident, I resume the pity and careless state learned to me quite early on. This repeated lifestyle shows up it's head numerous different times, always the doubt of "Am I good enough, If I am trying, Who will care?" Hardly this exact phrase is stated or even crossing my mind, but I ahave come to see that this is the question I am taunting my spirits with. 'Who will care?' recently, my Chemistry class had gotten th better of my happy spirits down, put out. I was drawn upon realization only a day after my failing test reappeared to me, and I shuddered once again. I can say I did my best in learning the material, but I was only worried about being the last to finnish up the given quiz of that one day. Hence bestowing upon me great fear of rejection and judging. this following day I was asked my differences, I stated nothing of fear for revealance. In my stead, I studied for the second quiz to be had, put my heart back in to motovation for myself, and constructed what I believe some self-esteem!

Perhaps I have a disease. Bi-Polar something or other? Yes, that just sounds just so reassuring to myself. In this sarcasm, I roll my eyes and decide that my point is not yet constructed, and shall continue my lecture on tomorrow's eve. Goodnight my readers.