I'm really hurting here. I'm tired, I'm lonely, and there's nothing on the horizon to make me think things are going to change any time soon.
No matter how well I manage to get things running, minor details always manage to escape me, and these things end up spiraling out of control, and eventually taking down anything I accomplished. Whenever I think I did something well, it seems that I manage to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.
Just when I think everything is going to work out, something comes out of nowhere, clocks me on the head, and everything manages to go wrong in the worst possible way.
After all the defeats I've suffered, you would think that I'd just stop trying, and just lie here and rot. That actually sounds like a reasonable plan of action, since I fuck up anything I try and start. And yet my soul can't rest. Even in this pit of despair, my soul writhes, struggling to strive again for some form of sunlight. Even here buried in the rubble of my folly, something in me stirs, believing that somehow everything will turn out right in the end.
Sometimes I wish I could just kill this part of me, so that I could rest, and wallow in my mediocrity. But I know this is the only reason why I've survived for as long as I have. I know for a fact that I've suffered worse than this, and I still managed to survive. For better, or for worse, I have always managed to survive.
I don't know whether I should be happy about that or not.
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