Day 2 of REALIZING LAZINESS

Pretense, next time someone asks me of hidden talents and skills unknown to me for long, I know what it is, pretense.
I sat facing the laptop all day long, not writing the story that I so badly want to write, not studying or reading up on the information that my sister tells me I require to be called well-read but yet sitting there. I haven't given my butt any exercise for quite a long time and my legs have gone off to sleep. I 'pretend' to be nursing my niece who is ill and cheering her up by letting her play baby cooking games on the net but I'm actually playing them too and I realize its another very good way to laze and kill time, while obviously you have tabs on simultaneously which show a list of good colleges.
Being fat makes you lazy and vice versa. so which one is true for me?

Day 1 of REALIZING LAZINESS

 I'm lying flat on my tummy, staring at the blank blogger screen. Its my first blog and I can't figure out what I want to write.
People preach all the time and there are a lot of people giving us information about the different happenings in the world and their lives. I realize I'm going to be one of them but it is definitely better than sitting in front of the TV screen watching one repeat telecast after other of the ridiculously hilarious serials whose morals and ideologies I wouldn't agree with if I was on my deathbed and it was my only chance to survive.
I'm sittting lazy because right now I'm at that phase of my life where I'm looking for my purpose in life, I was standing at the edge of the vast Arabian Sea, ready to jump in, contemplating suicide... Why? Because I did not have the guts to tell my parents that I do not know what my calling in life is. I pretended to be guilty, I pretended I could not stand to see my self in the mirror because I was going to be so hard on my parents and tell them that I had wasted precious years of my life and their hard-earned money. I wrote a long letter to them telling them everything I could without the chances of being thrown out of home. I gulped continuosly while writing the letter pretending to myself that I was in tears. I've heard it said that cheating yourself is the worst possible form of deceit and I was doing just that.
I finally plucked up the courage and gave them the letter, they are with me, two supports on either side, rock solid, but it is me who's standing in between, not moving ahead with long strides but turning to my sides and kicking at them with full force like my right and left are the only roads to go to and I have turned a blind eye to the world calling out to me from straight ahead.