My legs radiate soreness; my eyes feel tired, the hours in the day aren’t enough to finish everything anymore.  I keep pushing, pursuing, and polishing myself until I give off an undeniable sheen.  Day to day, keep moving until I get to the end. I am always craving the comfort of the past.  Not knowing when I will be able to stop but afraid of stop because I’m not sure if I will be able to move again.

My situation has repeatedly been changing over months.  Foundations within and without requiring more and more of me.  Luckily, I have been in the process of growing and changing to meet these challenges, but each one cares away another of the comforts I knew in the past.  Routine sets in, the only way to squeeze all that I can from the day. But with each rinse and repeat, I find myself farther away from the person I was months ago.

Things I do become rationalized through the guise of growth; everything else is superfluous. I do take the time to keep my sanity.  Outside of time in which I spend with others, which is always worthwhile, I spend the rest of my day with nose to the grindstone.  The last vestiges of time where I sought comfort to hide from future come out as treats for having accomplished what I needed to throughout the day.

I have always believed in the strength and adaptability of human nature in that; I choose to find comfort in the struggle, the pressing of myself until I lay a solid foundation for the future. Find fuel in my frustrations, a seemingly inexhaustible variety.

It’s in this thought process that I am afraid that I will break, or not achieve all that I need to.  The burning idea of who I could be and what I can do versus what I am and what I do now drives me forward to this point.

I ask myself how long will my legs feel tired, how long will my eyes weigh heavy, how much longer until I get more hours in the day. I don’t know the answer, but I do know that I can’t stop now, I have only just begun.

I keep going until I am called crazy, or ridiculous.  Until no one understands how I can keep going, not even myself.  It is only in these feats of incredible perseverance that I will know that I am half way there. It’s at this time that I will find the joy in my working and comfort in my struggle.