"So this is it. The painful realization that all has gone wrong..."
It was dark.
The room was damp and there was this spine-tingling chill that I am feeling inside my bones right now. My neck still aches from perching towards the phone.
I must be getting old.
I just realize that my mind has long been racing with all those unrealized dreams and longings that I've never seemed to keep up with from the time I turned 18. That rock star vision; that literati phase; the hopes of a revolution and the time spent in whining as to why things never seemed to make me feel assured of the person I am today.
If only life was a twisted emo song. Or a medieval fairytale where everything climaxes in an substantiated 'happily ever after...'
But it seems that those days were gone.
This must be how it feels in the zenith.
Terminus: it sucks!
I guess it wouldn't hurt to pop a razor and slash skin for the thrill of knowing that I might have died but I didn’t. Instead I’d wake up the following morning living with the regret that I have to live this crummy life as it was before.
Oh how I long for the time when in the act of writing, words and emotions come into place like lovers entwined by a perpetual adoration of thought and emotion.