I crave for bubble tea atm, shit.
I am in disbelief. This is utter bullshit. I am embarassed at myself and mad at the same time because I realized for the past 3 years, it has been a whole load of bull that I had put myself through. THREE YEARS, omg.
I remembered dwelling in the well of happiness before. I fervently hoped that it'll never dry up. But what are hopes for after all? To be dashed again and again. Lost in thoughts. I find myself sitting dejectedly on my bed, it's like I'm enveloped in bleak darkness. I try to eradicate certain news but I can't eradicate reality. I feel like a bloody albatross is around my neck. Questions are asked but those premature answers are well hidden in the disappointing amenities afforded us.
The purpose of life is a life of purpose. The meaning of life is not an unquestionable answer but it's an unanswerable answer. Life is simple but it's not easy. We human tend to expect the world to treat us fairly because we are 'good' but it's just like expecting a bull to not charge at you just cause you're vegetarian. Life is half spent before we know what it is. It's a series of collision with the future and a series of trying to make up your own mind. It's like a big judgement call where our actions and mistakes in life are easier to get into than out of it. Life is like a shit sandwich. But you know what? If you've got enough bread, you don't taste the shit. Life is easier than you'd think. All that is necessary is to accept the impossible, do without the indispensable, and bear the intolerable. When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained.
Perhaps we are looking at this from a wrong perspective; this search for the truth, the meaning of life, the reason of God. We all have this mindset that the answers are so complex and so vast that it is almost impossible to comprehend. I think, on the contrary, that the answers are so simple; so simple that it is staring us straight in the face, screaming its lungs out, and yet we fail to notice it. We're looking through a telescope, searching the stars for the answer, when the answer is actually a speck of dirt on the telescope lens. We should give meaning to life and not wait for life to give us meaning. Suppose the world were only one of God's jokes, would you work any the less to make it to a good joke instead of a bad one?
When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, "I used everything you gave me". Amen.
Nights.
"everynight she had tears in her eyes for me"
