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For lack of a better description,
Robert Smith couldn't have put it better:

I can't find myself!
I can't find myself!
I can't find myself!
I can't find myself!

I don't like what I've become these days, bitter, cynical and jaded. I seemed to have lost a fare bit of that carefree bubbly spirit I still had when I was fresh into uni. My humour is drier these days, and if you didn't see me face to face, you'd think that this was the voice of an angry shrivelled old pune sitting on her rocker sipping tea and snapping at anyone that came within a 10 mile radius.

A little less kind, sympathetic, giving and self-sacrificing. A little more selfish, guarded, frustrated and weary.
Weary of the constant curve balls that life has been serving.
Still carrying battle scars and brandishing badges of war.

Somedays I'm tired of being angry, most days it's what fuels the motions.
What happened to compassion, love, forgiveness, happiness and good values and traits that makes one glow from within?

I'm not a nice person anymore and I don't like how resentment and anger have manifested into someone cold and selfish.
I need to find myself again.

Aren't you already an angry shrivelled old pune? Hmm.

Ah, but snapping is good, and cynics are gooder.

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