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Why is it that I get wearier and wearier by the days. The pain, totally excruciating. Why are heavy blows hitting me so hard without dropping hints earlier?
The feeling just sucks, absolutely.
Do I really have to set my expectations so low that I won't end up in greater disappointments? I have. I have set them low, almost too low.
Yet, seemingly it doesn't matter anymore whether I have set it beyond reach, or even within reach, because I will still end up grieving over certain losses.
Loss of confidence, loss of a direction, loss of the beautiful imaginations I have had.

I looked on the 'bright' side, but apparently that's self-deception.
Sometimes life leaves one with no option between right and wrong.
Certain things are obvious on the surface, face up to it. Persistence in trying to believe something not likely to happen will only cause misery perhaps.
Effort makes magic? I refuse to believe.

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