So here I am seated in my room, sitting on my swivel executive Italian leather chair, the room so dark with no single ray of light, my head pointing sky ward, my eyes focusing on nothing but everlasting darkness, my brain deep in thoughts; this is the finest hour's of my day. My thinking hours!
When all hope seems lost. When it seems prayers are nothing but mare wishes. When even as a man your pride and ego seems to have deserted you; just like those fair weather friends.
No family is here to check up on you, if only just to give a shout out and see if you are doing just fine; and if at all they finally find time out of their every busy schedules to give you that rare call, it is either to add salt upon your wound wanting to know why you have been lagging behind in your monthly contribution's and why you have got to step up or the enforcement team shall be paying you a nasty visit any time soon!
Nobody see your pain. Nobody notice the hurts in your voice. Nobody care; all they care about is milking you out!
"Bloody rippers, you all!" You sighed and cursed out loud smashing your mobile phone on the wall.
Then on second thought common sense take's the lead over your troubled heart and sulky mind; you took a momentary pause and try to just stay calm.
Staying calm through it all. Knowing with time; This too shall pass!
So you went down on your already weakened knees and pray hoping for nothing but the best possible outcome.
Hope like Vapour! Hope like Opium! Hope is the only reason why you longed to stay alive, hoping for a brand new day, fills with dreams and hope, hoping your tomorrow shall yields more bountiful harvest than what you have been dealt with now. It's like rolling a dice to see what fate has in stock waiting for you, be it good fortune or bad; you have got to roll with it. C'est la vie!
Tell me when all hope is lost, what else is there to live for? Of what use is living?
Now I'm feeling suicidal, I'm tired of the everyday therapy!
I'm tired of one smug looking shrink sitting across me in the living room; playing the devil's advocate with me. Asking me some dumb questions and expecting nothing but honest responses from me.
What do you know about my life, what do you know about the human minds, what do you know about my pains, my hurts, my already battered ego and pride? How do you plan restoring my hope?
All you do is sat down on that two-seater sofa wishing the time away taking notes, scribling God knows what remarks or observation; always keeping those notes so close to your chest like it's top secret. It's my life we are here talking about, it's my session; duly booked by my humble self and duly paid for. Yet I guessed all you care to know is if I'm close enough; enough to reaching that tipping point or maybe not.
If only you knew how I planned on screwing on you all.
But I'm not ready to give you guys any ray of hope, not now. Not today, not even tomorrow, you will never see me crack!
And when that day cometh, like rapture I'm gone!
I can drink to that! I will surly drink to that, like a pregnant woman patiently waiting as each days rolled by. Every hours seems like eternity. Every minutes down the road can be very excruciating and depressing.
And now as the dying seconds roll on...
I can only but hope!
Don't cry for me, I don't need your tears; your crocodile tears!
Don't even dare touch my corpse, watch it swells and swells until it got bursted, splattering all over my room. Then you can all deal with my remains. That will be the nasty payment; my nasty payments to you all. My reward.
Then my lost soul will look down upon you all from the sky and smile. Then giggle. Then burst out with laughter!
That last laugh shall be mine!
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