Thanks for ruining my night, world. It's like I can't catch a single break, can I? I am so tired of having to do things. That's all life ever seems to be to me, an endless journey of doing things. One after another and on and on and on. Admittedly, the nostalgia of Bollywood movies and Shirtless Darren was enough for me to consider this weekend ended on a high but then my Dad had to mess it up and then my stupid self had to go and read stupid spoilers and now all I want is to just sink into bed and never wake up again.
And I thought it was over, you know? For now, partially, because I hadn't felt it since Stock Challenge and I honestly thought things could go back to normal and my prayers are steady and stable and all of that now but then it comes back, whams me in the face, and together with that comes a bunch of other things that I would just rather not think about. I was starting to get comfortable, understandably so, given the fact that I went out on two outings with my family members and it went off with only the barest of hitches. Good to know that nothing's ever going to be easy. Good to know that there is absolutely no point to life other than being a good person because after this? After this there's heaven and hell and whatever you've gotta face in between. There's just nothing, is there? I mean, thanks, I guess, for a body and soul and brain and a beating heart and all of that, and thanks, for the money and the intelligence and the fact that, hey, I'm not all that ugly, but honestly? What the hell is it even for?