The gifts of imperfection

I tend to listen to songs based on their tunes rather than their lyrics. Most of the time, lyrics cannot express how I feel but if you listen carefully to the beat behind them, you can discover exactly what my situation is. As I'm writing this piece of thoughts, my Youtube plays Cold Little Heart by Michael Kiwanuka.

https://youtu.be/nOubjLM9Cbc (thank me later for saving you 10 seconds of searching)

The beat gets extremely spiritual in my ears. By the way, I lately discovered that I might be a Taoist. In the past, I claimed that there's no religion for what I believe, but I have found a philosophical concept that somehow describes what I believe in. I'm 26 and most of the time I feel unsatisfied with myself. I'm a mixture of an extrovert with introverted thoughts or an introvert with extroverted attitude. Whatever you prefer.

I'm early in the process. Most of the time I feel stuck in between the lines of my young looks and my old brain. I'm enjoying life and even though I feel I have no idea of where I'm going, I am grateful for the moments I've lived so far. Today, a student of mine asked me if I have any addictions; I responded I'm a workaholic. I sometimes feel guilty about not working.

My wake-up time has changed. I can't leave my bedroom shutters open since moving into my new home. My body gets addicted to darkness and I have forgotten how it is to wake up naturally when the sun has just risen. At least I got my nutrition right. I enjoy cooking even if I'm bored to do so occasionally, but the days when I ate only cereal have passed.

I can't fall in love the same way I used to. Passion and emotions have been a huge part of my life and I have experienced them for many people. As I get older, it is harder for me to experience these emotions for someone else. Cleaning my house is not my thing. It can be messy at times, especially if I'm busy working on projects or not in a good mood. I'm really looking forward to buying one of these cleaning robots.

I read. A lot. I don't remember when it became a habit but certainly that's when overthinking ruined my life. Few people and very specific discussions can put me in the zone and forget about thinking. In a world of perfection, I'm a collection of imperfections and I guess I'm cursed to live like that.