Page 60 - KCN 2020
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DAWN SANGEETHA LEE

                               C O N T E N T






                      I consider myself to be a gifted child. Well, Dawn circa 2010 could be considered a gifted
               child. Studies came easy to me and never posed much of a challenge. I never had to expend much
               effort to acquire the grades I wanted. I didn’t know my true calling in life, so I spent my time mea-
               suring my self worth through the only way I knew how - academia. It gave me a clear-cut set of
               numbers to look at and to compare myself with.

                      It’s a different story now, though. In hindsight, the lack of obstacles in my path made me into a per-
               fectionist. It wasn’t very obvious at first. I lost interest in doing the things I usually did but I chalked that up
               to a temporary burnout. It happened to everyone, so why would I be exempt?

                      It’s been a while, though. I still don’t seem to want to do anything. I don’t see anything wrong, though.
               It’s completely natural to set a little time aside for some self-care. It’s not like I’d actually benefit from doing
               things like studying. Don’t they say that A-students work for C-students? I’m content with what I have now.
               It’s a point of pride for me. Lofty aspirations and goals just aren’t my style. What’s wrong with a little self-love?

                      Most days, when I go to my desk, all I see are unfinished drawings and half-heartedly written
               essays, dated a few months ago. There hasn’t been anything new since then. I’m just not feeling right, I
               tell myself. I’ll get some inspiration sooner or later, I tell myself. I’ll happen to see something interest-
               ing, and that’ll get the creative juices flowing in no time.


                      Part of me knows that these things don’t happen by chance. I won’t be able to hone my skills by
               just thinking about all the wild things in my head that I’ll do when I have time or when I have inspira-
               tion. I have to actually create. But I can’t. I have never needed to actually test myself to achieve perfection,
               but it seems that I do now. The slightest bit of exertion tires me out. It drains me. Deep down, I know
               that what I’ll make won’t live up to the expectations and standards that I set for myself. So I don’t create.
               If I never try, I’ll never know. If I don’t know, I don’t need to accept the truth. The truth can be what-
               ever I think it is. Right now, I don’t have any concrete truths, so it’s not like I’m denying anything.

                      (Even if I did, I could just turn a blind eye to them.)

                      I don’t grow as a person anymore. This period of stagnation has lasted a long time, but I’ve warped
               my own perception of it. I don’t thrive, I just exist. I do go through the motions of the daily routine, but
               everything seems faded and dull. I do it because it’s expected of me. It’s not as if I know anything else.


                      I am happy. I have my support system. My friends and family provide joy and meaning to
               my life. I have no reason to be frustrated or in distress. I have a roof over my head and food on the
               table. I should be thinking about the bright side of things. I don’t have anything to be worried about.
               I’m in a good place now. I’m comfortable with who I am, who I’ve become. I should be content.


                      I am content.
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