Thursday, May 20, 2004

If you're really unlucky, there comes a point in your life where you are unable to derive any joy whatsoever from any part of your life, or any thing or person in it. That's the point where you have to stop and ask yourself, 'Is this really worth it after all?". Is it worth becoming an old bag of misery for all around you just to plough on with life, all the while subconsciously (or maybe not so subconsciously) wish it would end? Some would say that life is a gift from God and it's not upto us to squander it or throw it back in his face via a slit wrist or two. Hell, I used to be one of those people. I still am, I think. For the longest time, it was like a strange invisible little merriment cloud was floating over my head everywhere I went. In the strangest of places I could and would find something amusing to take my mind off my latest source of misery, or just the old, prolonged thorn in my side that never goes away. Recently, the cloud muttered 'blow me!' and huffed off. Because no matter how sunshine-y I may try to keep my outlook on life, it ends up the same.

This isn't the way it was supposed to be. None of it.

Misha at Thursday, May 20, 2004

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