Wasteful Strife.

I hate growing up and I hate being a 12th grader. So far the only productive thing it brought along was circumstances that made me to write this post. I've tried to explain in words, that if you draw inspiration from my life and plot a graph between 'development' and 'time', you'll get a slope that slants downwards. Bruh. So much retardation.
Tired of the same old bunch of monotonies. Sometimes I can foresee the destination, sometimes the long roads leading to nowhere. And most of the times, I choose to march towards that 'nowhere', without any aims set.
So every time as I end up the day, I take a note on the degree of aimlessness I possessed throughout, which has witnessed a great increase of late. Over the past years, I've evolved as an improved version of ignorant and careless self. You know, I'm the person who would google "how to study for long durations", read all the articles (wasting an hour), then motivate myself delivering a highly prudential speech (wasting another hour), and then get tired and go to sleep (wasting hours forever). And that, quite sums up my life.
I remember, when I started off with this academic session, I had big (really big) plans in my head, and, that's about it, they remained inside my head. The time passed at the rate of 3*10^8, and there has barely been any execution. Now where do I go and bang my head complaining of falling short of time? The mirror would be appropriate!
So this is a strife. A strife between me and time. And this is wasteful, because time progresses way too fast, and all I ever do is repent and continue to be driven by lazy cells, lethargic enough to do nothing and just dream of mending things up someday.
Okay, enough of self shaming.
Let the mess persist.
Sigh.
And goodbye.