Sonata

 It's no news to you all on how I openly talk about my tragic life here. And guess what, nothing has changed. I'm still in deep shit, struggling with all that I have left to live another day. Browsing social media made me want to throw up more. Seeing all my friends happily trotting away to their perfect lives, having those cute little monsters they call children, moving cities and countries and just winning in life. I wonder how it feels like, to be winning...for once.

When you're close to the edge, who do you turn to? Surprise, everyone's got a life to live. No one shows up. And you forgot that you gradually eliminated all those so-called friends who were never there when no beers are involved. You've shut yourself to just a handful of people you only get to see once or twice a year. That's not too bad, or is it?

More often than sometimes, I catch myself inside my bathroom imagining dark scenarios in my head. I often think about what people would say to me when I'm lying peacefully in my casket. I want to hear if my presence really ever mattered at all, or if there was really something good about me all this time. I never felt wanted, needed yeah whatever. But I always thought about if ever I was  somebody's first choice, or am I always the option? 

Life went downhill when I turned 30. It peaked for a few years then the slope just went to a perfect angle. Hating my life is an understatement. It now has come to a point where I think all of this is a big fat joke. I keep on waitin for someone to just leap infront of me and shout Bazinga. But it never happens. 

Maybe this is just my life. Maybe it was meant to be this grand waste of time. Until my next entry, if I'm still here. Hope we all have a blast.