Reinspired

I started writing on my stories again. I developed it a few years back but had put it aside when the passion for writing died. Not sure what drove me this time around, but its a nice feeling to be inspired and be able to do what i like doing most. I guess as i grew older, i am drawn more towards writing and expressing my inner demons rather than acting on it. I might not be very good at writing but i like to think that i am. It sort of gives me some hope and that tiny sparkle of security, to let me face another day with the thought that i'm not that useless after all. Its the feeling of having a purpose, rather than speeding through life and end up empty by the end of the day.

I have long realized that i'm not a very ambitious person. I'm not very competitive and definitely not as driven as most of my friends are. In fact, i'm easily content to be honest. I prefer storybook ending of living happily ever after, rather than searching for new adventures one after another. I know it's kinda mundane, but maybe being mundane is good. At least i'm getting the comfort i need to sleep better at night, knowing that if i keep doing what i'm doing now, i'll have enough to pay the rent and go on holiday trips with my parents. I stop dreaming big awhile back. I couldn't be bothered. And if i were to be truly honest with myself, i hate my job. I hate the long hours, hate being fake all the time, hate the crap i have to put up with, in fact i hate the whole atmosphere of it, but this is what i do best. I know following one's dream is important and the whole you only live once bullshit but its hard to take that one step out of the comfort zone and actually do what the heart desire? Is it that bad to be content so easily?