I have this problem. It's been here since middle school, been prevalent since high school. It's called motivation. I've never had it because I've never had a reason to have it. Until recently it was one of my biggest goals in life. I wanted to be motivated to get the best job, the best grades, the best everything. But like everything in this journal, I have come to question it.

My father is my hero. He is one of the most motivated people you will ever meet. He has never been in debt, he has stayed with his wife for more than 20 years, he got nearly straight 'A's back when those kind of things didnt really matter, he went to college and got a degree in a field that at the time barely mattered. Now he's at the top of a business, making more money than I could probably ever hope to make. Although my family is still probably just considered the middle-middle class, my dad is successful, and noone can tell me otherwise.

But is he really? Everyday he trudges to work and is made completely miserable by his bastard-bosses. He fears being laid off constantly and works an extra two jobs just in case. He has to put up with the stress of his wife, who is now going to college again, and is in the process of starting his own business, something that is extremely hard, put lightly.

I wonder if motivation is really what makes life. If getting straight 'A's and getting the best job and the most money is what gives us true happiness. I wonder if my father is an example for me: telling me that success has almost no correlation at all with happiness. I wonder if I should get good grades, or if it really matters at all. Maybe the smartest people in the world are the people who really arnt smart. Those people who work jobs at a steel mill and dont know anything outside of their family and job.


Actually. I dont care. What I care about here and now is why people get depressed. At our age, there is nothing to be seriously concerned about, so why are so many kids depressed? Why do the biggest smiles at school flip directly upside down at home? Are we all fakers, hiding our sadness behind some gigantic mask we've come to call our face?

People that hide their emotions. (who hide themselves) They're horrible.