21 April 2012
I lost all hope that day. It was a ritual, like a bully and his friends backing a child into a corner, there I was, alone. This type of false power makes me rech, a bully without his friends is no bully at all. A weak, often ridiculous half-wit teetering on the edge of sanity, ego found in the fist of its rotting father. Oh how you make me hate. So my all is broken, pressurized, blown in soft moments of glazed eyed nothingness, but a fit of disgust, rage and pacified anger inside. A nothing losing the will to be. But all of that is lost in hope. With hope brings expectation, the last few minutes of life- what will they bring do you think? Is it worth our time to hope? I expect that one day I will become happy, I expect it in my teens (a phase) and in my early 20's (an aspiration) and now (a dream). What else is there to wait for? Oh plenty, yes a life full of things, each day a new queue to join, a new bus to catch, a ringing to endure a new app to download and more shit to skid through. We are not alive.
Tuesday • Opuss № I