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I stumbled across a website recently that claims to be a sanctuary for cynics. I think they got it all wrong…there is no sanctuary for cynics, only platforms from which their exaggerated attempts to impress others while unintentionally exposing their desperation to be acceptable by those they admire but despise because they’ve never been deemed good enough in their natural state…and so the sour grapes descend and they resort to bitter discourses that belie the truth of their heart’s desires.

Welcome cynics…if ever you run out of material to mock at, take a peek into my life, and you’ll be entertained for years to come…if not a lifetime or three…or four…or more…wateva

When afliction hits me, it’s so easy to slip into a state of self-pity, or more accurately self-loathing and dismiss everything of significance as nothing at all, simply because it seems like no one cares at all. I’ve often wondered how faith in a greater power may or may not affect this state of mind. Sometimes I think that if my faith is strong enough, I’ll always believe and be certain about the fact that everything that happens, happens for a good reason and that it’s probably saving me from something so much worse instead.

Yet other times I think that maybe it’s just happening because I don’t deserve any better, in which case it’s not that I was saved from something worse, but rather denied something better because I am simply not good enough to earn the good that I’m yearning for. But through it all, no matter how low I sink, I can’t stop myself from caring about a beautiful soul, no matter how much that soul may have damaged me in the process of them not believing in themself, or in me.

So I guess after all is said and done, I do care…and I hate myself for it more often than not because it sets a false expectation that I can expect someone to want to reciprocate it at some point…maybe I’m just an ingrate by nature and haven’t realised it yet.

The lyrics of a song by an old crooner comes to mind right now…that old familiar forgotten feelings come rushing, all over my mind…pity though that those feelings are not entirely pleasant or welcomed. The search for a space to call my own continues…if only the fool in me will die so that the endless search for significance can finally cease and be replaced with complacency…

Nothing comes to mind right now…just the usual negative crap on a Monday morning, so more accurately, nothing substantial or worth repeating comes to mind right now. Except sleep…and of course that destructive being that used to be a source of warmth and happiness, but has since chosen to withhold her bounties in order to reserve it for someone more deserving instead. Such is life…and then we die…

Sometimes the predictability of just laying on that cold floor knowing you’re being walked all over offers more comfort than the hope of being accepted and loved for what little you have to offer.

How I wish I was capable of that…but my anal upbringing about being responsible and decent and well mannered has pretty much inhibited any such raw expression of emotion…so WTF will have to suffice for now…as if anyone gives a crap either way…

The convenient state of believing that our actions or words or even writings are significant, if not to anyone else, then at least to ourselves because they’re gems of wisdom that someone will appreciate at some point…of course, it’s also the convenient state of assuming that we’re more important than we really are…it’s a healthy place to be when reality doesn’t hold much appeal.

Words can be so meaningless sometimes…