Don't Ask

Alas, here I am, the very embodiment of disappointment, failure, travesty, and guilt. I'm home. I'm currently writing this on my desk, in my room, in Malaysia, The Land of Heat, Bad Traffic, and Cheap Food. To say that the ride has been wild is a severe understatement it's almost criminal. It was a total of 5 and a half fucking years. 5 and a half fucking years washed down the drain. 5 and a half fucking years. In those 5 and a half fucking years I have achieved nothing.

It's truly a tragedy when someone loses 5 and a half fucking years of his/her life. In my case, though, the tragedy has just begun. To be honest, my whole entire existence has been a tragedy. I honestly believe that my family are the only people who don't see my existence as one. And that's stretching it. Anyhow. it may seem very, very attention-seeking that I'm writing the way I am right now, maybe even for as long as I've been writing on this goddamn blog, and you know what? Fuck it. I will chronicle my whole entire grief, misery, depression, tragedy, every bit of sad story I can here on this page until the day I have no more to give. I pray to anything that can listen that that day may soon come. Please fucking come.

Despite all that though, I was told that I'm still very young. Am I young? I feel old. I feel ancient. I feel like I've been carrying a fucking hill on my back and I can't even remember when that hill got there. Hopefully this hill behind my back doesn't evolve into a mountain or something, because my back can't stand much more of this shit. I constantly have back pains nowadays (literally) and I really think I won't be standing straight in a decade or so. I'll have a hunch on my back. I'll be like the guy who rings the bell of the old Notre Dame, just not as hideous. You've seen the Disney movie right? 

I'll be turning 24 in a week or so. If I were a professional football player I'd be peaking right about now. If I were a professional gamer I'd be slowly plateauing. If I were an office worker I'd still be a rookie. Of course there are people out there who are flowing money out of their asses by my age, but hey, I look into the mirror every single day and you know what? I got nothing. Literally nothing. It's like my life hasn't even started yet. I'm an infant. An infant who's all hairy and shit. And I don't know where to start. Where do I start looking when I am where I am right now? What do I do when I am what I am right now? Who do I see when I am who I am right now? 

I'm embarrassed, yet I'm still writing this. It's one of the very few things I have for myself at this point. I'm trying to force myself to like video games again, because I have a half-decent computer that can run decent games. Other than that, I don't have much anymore. I've cut ties, I've given up so many things, all in the name of keeping whatever sanity I have left. It's tempting to lose everything and just give up my sanity at this point, trust me. Just think of all the perks I'd get; I won't need to care for shit, I'd get easier parking, discounts everywhere, I'd even get a nice, comfortable place to stay where I can do literally anything I want. But without sanity I'd be without the only thing that wants me to keep going. Now that's a contradiction, I know, but it is what it is, and I can be very cryptic and confusing. Hell even I don't understand it. Or maybe I still have enough pride in me to not want to admit it. Either way, sanity and ego can go a long way, and I'll take what I can get. Something something beggars something choosers or some shit.

Someone told me, "you'll bounce back."

Never have I not believed anyone as much as the person who said that. I honestly don't know what's next. I'm hoping to use my need for adrenaline to keep me from fainting at the thought of "what's next." I'm hoping it will be enough to keep me well enough to see "what's next." What's next. What is next. 3 words that can shut down a fully functioning brain of any person, given the right circumstances. Well my brain hasn't stopped yet, and I fully intend to find out what the fuck is next for dear little old me. And all of you are welcome to know. 

Just don't ask because I'm just gonna say I'm okay.

p/s I know what time of year it is so save your preaching for someone who actually cares. I'll say what I want.