Monday, April 11, 2016


Is It Really Just Bad Luck 

I'm at the park today, with phone in hand, and all of a sudden a basketball comes out of nowhere and dislodges the phone out of my hand, the phone falls to the ground and a noticeable crack all over the screen appears.

Miscellaneous occurrences such as these question my motives in life, they leave a detriment inside my mind which eventually collapses under the weight of its own pressure. I look back on moments and belittle myself for all those little things which could've prevented all the chance things to happen to me. Imagine if I sat somewhere else, imagine if the phone was in my pocket, imagine if I was the one shooting. Yet again, the person behind the trigger remains unpunished, what could I have said? "You owe me $450", no, I wouldn't want to cause unnecessary drawn out proceedings which would end up in many bridges burnt, the "sorry's" do not cut it, however, what else can be done?

The accumulation of all these unfortunate circumstances, question my social values and inner beliefs. Every Sunday I sit myself down, and ask myself "am I really all that I think to be", "am I after all this time, the real villain". 

Remaining upbeat and joyous under the watch of society's eyes is difficult when you are consistently berated. I masquerade the demons which haunt me when I return home, the passing away of my Grandmother is still taking its toll on me. To watch the only person in the world who loved you unconditionally descend to a state of paranoia and fear is sickening. Every afternoon, I'll take time and wander around the garden which both my Grandma and I raised together, allowing me to reflect on those moments we had together. I still get teary from time to time, moving on is too hard to bear, let alone comprehend. 

I can't bear it anymore, sooner rather than later, my mind will lost itself under the weight of its weight pressure. There is a widely cited Rocky Balboa quote, where Sylvester Stallone goes "It ain't about how hard you hit, it's about how hard you can get hit and keep going". I feel as if I every single time I'm about to pick myself up, a hit smashes me back down. Every single time I am about to reach Utopia, dystopia  drags me back down into among its depths. The world isn't fair, it's a commonly mutual worldwide belief, sometimes however I feel like, it's hardest on me.

Someone once told me, never to compare against anyone. My Mother compares frequently, however, I have never been fond of any of her wildest comparisons. Many of you may be thinking of how much of a pompous prick i am, I write a long blog post because my phone screen gets cracked while there are children out there below the poverty line. However, I've tried my best to fight and battle through these set backs, I have been constantly telling myself that things will get better, and I will succeed, but I've been defeated, I am now a shell of my former self. Every single time I've been set back, I tell myself to cop it on the chin, but now there is this ingrained mentality that it is now me against the world, it sounds so cliche, 'the world conspiring against you', but this is my reality.

The last few posts have been filled with negative connotations, however, the pessimistic outlook is what has been brooding in my life for the past couple of months. The heartbreak I feel, the mindset that no matter how hard you try, you still fail in the end, it's a toxic mindset and one which I never see myself mustering up the strength to escape. To live, or to die, I care no more, "Do I dare" and "Do I dare".

"I am no prophet- and here's no great matter" 
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker"

I do not need help, my sense of self has been forever diminished, and the inner turmoil within my heart will perpetually carry on, as I drift through life, no more, no more.

"I should have been a pair of ragged claws"
"Scuttling across the floors of silent seas"

No comments:

Post a Comment