My whole life is a lie. I regret everything and I’m powerless to speak the truth. The cosmos always surprises us with its cruelty and emptiness. And look at you, wasting your best years scrubbing chicken ovens and cry-wanking the pain away cos you’re too defeated by shortarsedness to believe you could make your life better.
I’ve only just seen this. Why exactly is your whole life a lie and one big regret? What truth? I know I’m wasting my prime days in this dead end job but I’m afraid of change, trying to search for a “better” job is too scary. I’m dead set in the job i have I think. It’s not even that unbearable.
Where are these people now? Once they are dead, you can go anywhere on earth and you’ll never find them. They don’t exist anymore, and if they weren’t famous nobody would even know they were once here except less than the 0.000001 percent of the human population who knew them when they were alive.
And I know I could take proactive steps to make my life better same as you could. Would it be fair to say that what you said about my shortarsedness could apply to you with respect to your baldness?
Is all of what really about my dad? That happening probably made me, I can’t think of the words to describe it, maybe more aware of how much people take the people they care about for granted. I’m here today, typing this, later on today I could be gone and I’ll just be a memory to the few people who know me until they’re all dead and then it’ll be like I was never even here. obviously that’s the case with just about everyone who’s alive in the present moment and the billions and billions who were here in the past. Continuar leyendo «At least he got to do what he loved for a fine living»