Almost cried today. Not almost— I did. But it was sufficient and satisfactory enough for me to call it ‘crying’. For me to ‘cry’, I must cry until I feel that I don’t feel like crying anymore. I still do. But I can’t find anywhere suitable for me to cry. As it could be expected, talking about crying makes me feel like doing so.
It started with the 30%s. I got one yesterday. I got one today. So it no longer can be filed under ‘anomalies’ in my mind. They are real. I don’t think it is justified for me to get them, especially when I set out everyday, precisely resolved not to get those so that I don’t have to make a post like this one. So that I won’t have to react to something in a negative way. So that I won’t have to handle the negative emotions. Wtf.
I work really hard for my avoidance scheme to work. And something in the universe works against it to haunt me.
And when the 30%s are mentioned, it is not only the numbers you are invoking. You are pullling the hair way beyond the roots, dragging out all the debris and dirt that you never want to see or face or when seen and faced, you would never want to know what they are. Strange things from the past.
These numbers negates the very idea of me existing. Because I play this game and I make choices. And I uproot myself from something precisely to get nicer numbers. All for the sake of the game— because out of the game, I don’t exist. There’s nothing else. Makes me feel like quitting this game. And not trying another one because 1. its impossible to not play this game and play something else and 2. I’ve tried enough games to know that I wouldn’t be much better off in other games when I can’t conquer this one.
Stupid things. Why do I even care? Because I’m too weak to quit. There’s no painless way to quit. And a part of me fears what will happen when I quit. And I tell myself that I can play this game whichever way I like, whichever way that makes me happy. But I am not able to feel— if I do, I become confused. Like right now. I don’t want to clean up spilled milk. Too troublesome.
I live my life trying to avoid spilling the milk and.. what happens?
I don’t really want to believe what you’ve said.
I know this is not the end of the world, or end of the game and it is easy to win again if I work for it in a different way. But I just want to say that I am very disappointed at the irony of how it all ends this way even when I throw my entire self into it.
You lured me into it and killed me. If it doesn’t mean a lot for you, it does to me. But I don’t expect you to. So nevermind. You are just maximising your own interest– that’s admirable. But I will do it back to you twice the number of times you did to me. And I will mutilate you till you regret that you didn’t kill yourself before I did.
Go and die.
No longer fml— fyl (y-your)