I just needed to throw up this nasty feeling
I learnt these days that talent doesn't mean sucess.
Hardwork doesn't mean payoff.
To dream doesn't mean to accomplish.
And real life .
I can't lie: sometimes I can't find any rational reason where I can land my feet on and live one more day of uncertainness, one more week of unstability, one more month of vain hopes. I look around I can't see a single friendly fire, a single hope spark. Just darkness. I'm tired of being a burden to my old sick mother, to my busy sister and my impoverished family. Such a ungrateful, inconsiderate useless bastard child. I'm tired of so much self-pity. I just wanna sleep forever and forget reality, forget debts, forget dreams, forget myself. But that's not possible.
Maybe I'm way too coward to take my own life, or way too stubborn to keep living, or way too afraid of wasting my only chance in this earth, but I'm here, living through another day, numb.
I can't take this no more.
I know I need to get a grip on my , but put it in practice would mean to give up on my dreams to keep living.
And I know better, this will kill me sooner or later, one way or another; but is better later than now, and it's better figurative than literal. I just hope I have the guts shoot my soul in a such heartless way like this.
I'm just a bunch of broken ideals, shattered dreams, bitterness and survival instinct.
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