I had a life. A past which I can only vaguely recall. I lived before. To the fullest and utmost of my capacity as a human being. I was happy being disillusioned with the world. Naive, untainted, believing. I can barely remember how all that felt. But I know that it felt good. I had faith in the human race… and then everything vanished. The life I loved, was abhorred. The dream became a nightmare. And I saw the world for the first time… an ilusion which I failed to see. I was distraught. But you see, this is not the problem… the problem was that this became a cycle.
Though there comes a point in one’s pathetic existence that a cycle can actually halt. It is when you can take no more. Either you rust up, and the cycle stops, or you collapse from within, and the cycle demolishes with you.
I wish pain killers can stop the pain. I wish I could stop thinking. I wish I knew why. or how. I wish stupidity did not come natural for me.
Oh how I wish.
…but the past is done.
And all is lost.