The self

I can’t ever tell if I’m actually getting better, or if it’s just a placebo effect messing with my head. Some days, my shoulder feels amazing, like I’m really making progress. Then there are days when it’s just sore and throbbing, making me wonder if the range of motion is actually improving or not. The whole process is slow, but strangely, I’m kind of enjoying it. At the end of the day, all this rigorous physical therapy is only going to benefit me. If everything goes as planned, I should end up with stronger micro tendons and ligaments in my shoulder, stuff that usually doesn’t get worked out in regular routines. It’s wild how fast the year is flying by, I mean, we’re talking less than 10 Fridays until summer. Puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?

As much as I find stuff to complain about, it does make me feel a bit better sometimes. But I know I’ll actually miss this whole ordeal when it’s over. Weirdly enough, it’s not the people I’ll miss. There’s just something off about the vibe here. The aura of people is just… odd. It’s unlike anywhere else I’ve been. Walking down the street, you can practically feel the vanity and narcissism in the air. It’s like everyone, men and women, are clones, wearing the exact same outfits. Where’s the individuality gone? It seems like there’s this intense pressure to fit in, to be part of something bigger than yourself. But in trying so hard to be part of a group, you start losing bits of who you are, picking up pieces of everyone else until you become this mishmash of identities.