Waiting For My Rocket To Come

Alright, this is probably the closest thing to having my own column. So yup, I'll enjoy all the attention while it lasts...

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

And So It Is

Everything
Everyone
Everywhere
Ends.

That's the tagline for the final season of Six Feet Under. When I first saw it, I was a bit perplexed why they would use that or what it really means. I s'pose I do now.

I shan't even begin to describe the day I have had, because it will only remind me even more, and it hurts, majorly. On that note, I won't try to forget it either because that will make me more conscious of it.

Also, I could also have died in an accident but I am still alive now. The question is, am I even grateful for that?

I knew what the outcome would be at the end of the day, I have sort of even prepared myself for it the whole of last week leading up to today. But why does it still hurt so badly when it eventually did happen? Is it really true that you can never be truly prepared for some things?

How much is too much? How many blows can I take within a specific period of time, or should I say, at this age?

Did the ideals I created for myself when I was younger backfired on me now and are making me more depressed rather than hopeful?

Why can't I just fucking cry? I really wish I could have a good bawl and let it all out. I really want to know how it feels like.

I have just popped a pill to help me sleep. It is a first for me. I need to. Maybe when I wake up, I will be fine, I will be alright. It seems to be a running theme about being fine and alright, but I don't mind.

I don't.
I don't.
I don't.

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