I must be one of the few people in the world who would rather take the stairs than the elevator most of the time. I mean, except when I’m feeling tired or downcast. But since I mostly have a happy-go-lucky disposition and an energetic, lively demeanor, I can often be seen running up and down the stairs whenever I want to get somewhere. It’s not that I’m in a hurry or anything. It’s just that sometimes it’s like I have these outbursts of energy, instances when I have this urge to just spend energy in any way I can. Like I’m overcharged or something and I can’t just sit still. Is it just me? Maybe it’s because of all the sugar I ingest. Could I be hyperactive or something? I don’t think I am but some people have already asked me whether I was. I don’t think that’s exactly the case… I mean, I can restrain myself and there are times when I’m in low spirits and feeling tired and dejected, forlorn by the world. I guess…I think it’s a good thing that I don’t fight back tears. Whenever I want to cry, I just do it. Privately naturally, but I don’t see it as a sign of weakness. If anything, it helps me get some anguish and sorrow off my system, and I regain some strength afterwards. But I guess it’s the same way with everybody. Though I don’t cry nearly half as much as I used to nowadays. I was such a crybaby growing up. I remember I would cry every other week, sometimes even more than once. Once I cried because I had heard from someone that my teacher had been crying and as it turns out she hadn’t. I can’t recall what I was thinking, but I felt sad and sort of guilty for some reason. I was so helpless. So stupid. But I don’t think I was a bad child. I had my moments of cruelty… Looking back, I kind of regret them. But I was immature, so I guess it can’t be helped. Things are different now. I still tend to shed a few tears if I’m feeling depressed but some parts of me have gotten numb. It’s like they don’t get to me the way they used to. I can’t tune in to other people’s suffering the way I was able to. I want to help them but instead I just spout some blunt and direct remarks. I was much softer. Now, people’s suffering gets to me, but in a different way. I seldom wish they’d grow some balls if they can’t seem to stop whining. But who am I to talk? I do the exact same thing. One could argue it’s hypocritical of me to say that, but I still think no one judges me as harshly as myself. Still, I’ve gotten better. These days I can recognize my own merit and qualities, even if a few say otherwise.
Anyway, all I wanted to say, before turning this into a 500-word passage, is that I prefer taking the stairs. It’s healthier and it burns more calories so there!
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