i hate myself more than i hate any soul in the world. that is if I'm capable of hating anyone. which i am resolutely not.
i'm not a saint, god knows that.
and i cannot ask why.
this pain, this grief, that cuts so deep inside that it ceased to be felt by my heart anymore.
still, i cannot question.
i am a sucker for self-torture, that i am most assuredly am.
I've just browsed through several blogs of the guys that is part of my life back in when i am an asasian.
it hurts, truly it does to read their words.
some complained bitterly, some act so nonchalant, some were obviously consoling themselves to the realities of life.
but at least, they've not known, the distress, the dismay, the sublime humiliation of my position, not personally at least.
I've lost the childish ability to enthusiastically hope, the simple joy of existing, i proudly announce that i no longer harbours any illusions.
i guess that is why i had not felt any great animosity, of bitter feelings at all, coz i was expecting the very worst.
in some way i am correct.
i have coped with this almost similar scenario all throughout last year.
the scars, admittedly is yet to heal let alone fade.
i am fully expecting my roommate to start hating me soon.
they all did, eventually.
hating me, that is.
barely meeting my eyes, and even if they do, the identical plain dislike on their faces, it will surface.
i wonder, is there anyone on earth who is like me at all?
having to brave their way through the whole cycle, knowing exactly the demise waiting right in front of them.
inevitable as a child growing into adulthood.
and what would they have done under the circumstances?
me?
just muddling on.
because the wheels of life spins on continuously and sometimes you just have to go along, resist all you can.
i've learn that at least.
that humans are weak, powerless really on charting the course of their destiny.
and i am no atheist.