I always think myself as high maintenance person. The one who always need so many things in life per se, will never settle for less. And nothing will ever be enough.
These enoughness is intoxicating my whole body. It’s born into these hatred and self criticism toward myself. Today and almost everyday I woke up from my sleep and wonder what’s gonna happen today and how am I gonna fix that. It’s been a decade or more, I feel not alive. Maybe that’s the thing about not living the life, rite?
I put all my mind on all the things I hate about the life I’ve been living. The pain they put me through all those years, the broken bones that never got mended, the scar still sting every single time. The life I didn’t choose but I still need to carry it on. And it still haunt me in my hidden cry on sleep. I was a kid once. I was a teen back then. And now, my young adulthood is behind me and I’m still figuring it out to make the most of it.
All the years went by and nothing’s really new, not that it’s gonna be change anytime soon. I think being alive is overrated. We’re a like a coin waiting to be tossed off. The thing about life is that I hate it all about it, was gonna end it years ago. And yet I trapped inside soulless body of mine. Wondering when will this pain go away. Or even better when will my waiting will be over, and my life will begin. Here or in another.