Sitting, thinking, drinking my way in a maze of confusion, paranormal circumstances, and the insane belief that the universe might conspire to be my comfort, I live on.

I'm so tired of fighting, but the only thing that keeps me holding on is my refusal to surrender to anything.

I know it sounds dark and depressing (maybe that's the stage of grief I'm on right now..who knows?), but I think more frequently that three has been nothing in this life worth my living. I know, I sound like a spoiled ass, who knows nothing of the suffering of other people. Trust me, I would rather have their suffering than mine. I would rather fear for my physical life every minute of the day, wondering if there will be food to eat tomorrow than go through this torture.Material suffering can always be alleviated, mental/emotional...not so much.

If, given the choice between living my life and having never existed, I would likely choose the latter. I don't want to die, per se, because that would hurt my family, and the only reason some days I even get up is to avoid causing them pain. But they can't feel pain if they never knew of my existence.

I get that the universe never wants me to be happy. I get that it dangles carrots in front of my face to drag me in its sick game. If I stop going for the carrots, it will torture me in other ways, it will tear my mind. I get that everytime I get a glimmer of hope, it dashes those expectations against the rocks, and that like Tantalus, when I reach the nourishment of water or food, it snatches away.

There is no respite.