And there I was, only several hours ago, ranting about how shamelessly and ridiculously lucky I have been for all my 19 years of existing. I always thought I had the upper hand when it came to consequences, when it came to responsibilities, when it came to...anything. I always felt that I was receiving the longer end of the stick, no matter what the situation, no matter what the circumstance. I was granted the beauty of luck, I always thought. And that's how I have been coasting by life.
But today is looking grim, and I have an ache in my gut the size of Titanic. It is so agonizing to think that I had put in such effort into something, reassured something, secured something, only for it to be ripped away from me.
This morning at roughly 9:15 am, life gave me two choices. Life offered me Failure Numero Uno or Failure #2. Which ever I would have chosen, Failure would have been the outcome. I'm sitting here on my bed, instead of being in class, thinking of how I could have prevented any of this. Thinking of how I could have protected it. But really, I'm just replaying the same scenes that led me to such a disappointing state, over and over again. And for someone like me, for someone who haaaas been leisurely floating in my pool of luck for 19 years, I am naturally reverting to thinking of how I could find my way out of this. I'm trying to think of some escape plan, some compensation even to ease myself. But it's like shining a stupid mini flashlight in a small, dark, and empty room. It just sucks.
These are the things I never prepared myself for. When things unexpectedly don't work out and I can't find the bright side to it. This is it. With my luck, it's not like my life has been miraculously lucky and sunny all through. I've just always been offered something else. When shit came to shit, I had another option, another perspective. When one door closes, another opens, that kind of shit. But that's not the case today. I cannot recognize any gleam of hope here. Not right now at least. Not today.
This is my long story filled with sighs (Scott Pilgrim reference). And to be honest, I am being more dramatic than I should be. But I have the craving of a writer. If I stamped this entry "BAD DAY" then I'd be boring as fuck. And if anything, we don't want that now, do we? Instead I stamp this, "Vaguely Written Anecdotal Rant of an Unfortunate Event, Filled with Long Pauses, Stares Down at the Ground, Fiddling with my Fingers, Pouting to Myself, Dragged Sighs, and a Very Very Very Hopeless Tone of Words."
I conclude you with the song of my liking for the moment~
"I live my life in cocaine
Just a rage and three kinds of yes
And I've made stairways
Such scenes for things that I regret
Oh, those days in the sun
They bring a tear to my eye."
But today is looking grim, and I have an ache in my gut the size of Titanic. It is so agonizing to think that I had put in such effort into something, reassured something, secured something, only for it to be ripped away from me.
This morning at roughly 9:15 am, life gave me two choices. Life offered me Failure Numero Uno or Failure #2. Which ever I would have chosen, Failure would have been the outcome. I'm sitting here on my bed, instead of being in class, thinking of how I could have prevented any of this. Thinking of how I could have protected it. But really, I'm just replaying the same scenes that led me to such a disappointing state, over and over again. And for someone like me, for someone who haaaas been leisurely floating in my pool of luck for 19 years, I am naturally reverting to thinking of how I could find my way out of this. I'm trying to think of some escape plan, some compensation even to ease myself. But it's like shining a stupid mini flashlight in a small, dark, and empty room. It just sucks.
These are the things I never prepared myself for. When things unexpectedly don't work out and I can't find the bright side to it. This is it. With my luck, it's not like my life has been miraculously lucky and sunny all through. I've just always been offered something else. When shit came to shit, I had another option, another perspective. When one door closes, another opens, that kind of shit. But that's not the case today. I cannot recognize any gleam of hope here. Not right now at least. Not today.
This is my long story filled with sighs (Scott Pilgrim reference). And to be honest, I am being more dramatic than I should be. But I have the craving of a writer. If I stamped this entry "BAD DAY" then I'd be boring as fuck. And if anything, we don't want that now, do we? Instead I stamp this, "Vaguely Written Anecdotal Rant of an Unfortunate Event, Filled with Long Pauses, Stares Down at the Ground, Fiddling with my Fingers, Pouting to Myself, Dragged Sighs, and a Very Very Very Hopeless Tone of Words."
I conclude you with the song of my liking for the moment~
"I live my life in cocaine
Just a rage and three kinds of yes
And I've made stairways
Such scenes for things that I regret
Oh, those days in the sun
They bring a tear to my eye."
Rest My Chemistry - Interpol
