I find I am better at writing tragic endings. It’s something I believe I have mastered so well that my life sort of resembles it and now, however it may seem, I don’t think I can live without them.

It is a constant that is always there but it is something most people don’t know is coming. Everyone seeks a happy ending even though most of the time, they don’t get one.

Still, it’s what they are always looking, searching, praying that it’s finally their turn, that they have earned the right. It’s a need, a hunger for the rainbow at the end of a long monsoon season.

It’s in our human nature to assume the best is always out there otherwise there would be no reason for us to keep chasing the carrot on the end of the stick. And if we are not part of the chase, what good are we?

It seems like the madness never ends, that it has made it its personal mission to seek you out and destroy you. That is where I am at now. After all the things that have happened to me in the last year, there are times when I just didn’t see it becoming better. Everything looked black and the white was so far it wasn’t even a dot on my map.

WRITING TRAGEDIES

Sometimes I lose the will to fight. Sometimes I curse at whoever is responsible for my tragedies.

But without tragedies, there is no hope of fortune. It’s just really hard to understand that at times. It’s really REALLY hard.

Things don’t happen for a reason don’t get me wrong. Bad things don’t happen to you because they needed to or because you deserve them, they just do. It’s on you how you react and what you do with them that counts.

I will not try to encourage you to just push towards better things, because I would feel like a hypocrite. I am not the one, I am in no position to give any encouragement or advice. This is just a journal entry of my current state in life and something that has been haunting me for quite some time, an itch on my brain that I was not able to scratch.

I am going day by day, trying to make myself be as fulfilled as possible, but it’s not always quite up there. I don’t believe that I am going there all the time. My mind is just a place where nothing is in order, just like these sentences. My organization skills are not the point here though.

So far, I was only able to write tragedies, with a hope that someday I will be ready to write happy endings as well, hopefully, mine.

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