Before year-end journal

Last week, when I first realized that my book draft won't make it this year, I was really thinking hard on my faults. I didn't follow my ritual; was mindlessly freewriting without tracking my progress; didn't have enough drive. I forgot to write at a gunpoint, that's why I was misled that the whole process is meant to be like that, an easy stroll.

Thinking of my failure in writing also brings me to the larger picture of my life. The second half of the year wasn't particularly well for my career and my well-being in general (so I guess). This is the time when I started to withdraw from some social relationships because I didn't think they were worth the time. I invested in wrong people, and neglected some of my duties at work. These compromises took their toll in multiple spheres of my life.

There are times when I would engage in self-sabotage by not doing my best just to see where the events would lead. For instance, I wouldn't talk to my friends in a while just to see whether they'd make the effort to check up on me. In disagreements, I wouldn't say sorry. I'd wait for them to ask. I'd wait for people to talk to me first. All these things are nonsense. 

Once my mother hears this, she'd say "tumatanda ka'ng paurong" (you grow old without progress), to which I have nothing to reply. I'm already old enough but I still regard the opinion of my mother important.

Although this year might not be perfect, I still think it's one of the best years I've had.