Five months ago, when I just failed my first French test, I wrote the last journal, with full of my emotions and sorrow. It was winter, the freezing temperature and heavy snow inspired the depression. Presently the two are gone, but the depression stays. Some weeks are better and other weeks are worse, if I have to say, the black dog has been chasing me. Better days are when I focused on something else, worse days come when there is too much me living inside me. Like what people said, your life needs a bit variations.

If I have to recall now, life did not usually go what I thought it to be,  I cannot blame anything though, I am the guys who make decisions within 2 seconds and change directions 270 degrees later. but when I was younger, there seems always hopes, possibilities churned up the reality, I tended to brag about myself for at that golden moment, passions are gone quickly and my unreliable memory only reminds me of that when it was too late. Also, at the moment when I realized the lateness, if I was onto something else, excited, forgiveness was given easily as I was my golden self again. It was like dopamines meddled with my brain, all the things I wanted to do seemed just inches out of my finger. Learning the new nature/programming language, learn music, refine my computational geometry knowledge, being more socialized. they all looked doable, but I never estimated how long it will take. I claimed these are easy, well, now I think of it, the reality teaches me what the "real" easy things are: "watching Netflix with beer and wasting time on cellphones". Hein, what a disappointment. The thought about the slightly better version of myself, he really requires not superpowers or being rich as Bruce Wayne. Nevertheless, this super-version is actually 100 steps ahead of me every day actually, I guess he would not feel sleepy anytime during the day, has an urge to eat something at 11 am or open YouTube pages from once stuck on bugs. He would somehow have energy and find the time to keep studying all those I promised myself. Inertia must not be an opponent for him. However,  me of reality, is him just going to nulle place called boring life? It reminds me of Peter Parker who never became the Spider-Man, never was able to get Mary Jane. Is that so, in reality, most of us are that Peter Parker?

Two Peter Parker in the Park, ironically, the normal Peter Parker was still a successful game designer
If only I can keep a mentality of this alternative spiderman warning forever. Unfortunately, on Mondays and Tuesdays, a voice in my head would start whispering again. "Come on, you can start watching Netflix, forget about all the tasks, and things you want to do. You can always do it tomorrow, Just continue on Netflix for next 2 hours, the dopamine will be happy", the damn toxic asshole, if I can pull it out, I will beat him to death.

But just at this point, my thoughts are still clear enough, I could not help trying to figure the guy I will be in the 30s or 40s if I continue in this numb. If I can have the concrete image of this guy, I will make a tattoo of it and he may be my ultimate cure. Nevertheless, it is harder to see this guy than the better me. Would I lose my job if I do not work as hard as I can, then I become unemployed? Probably not, I am capable to get the work done, but the career advancing seems unreachable. I will be the guy in the movies who never get promoted?  Another part seems more obvious, I will certainly not be able to start a family. Will I be constantly in the lack-of-experience state with women or socializing in general? And...

It seems to be much harder to picture a loser than a perfect guy, just as it is much easier to be forgiving to ourselves than to others. If I do not want to see him, I will inevitably become him, and it will be too late.