How bad can things turn out?
No updates for some days, way too lazy. I just stumbled over something I’ve written after reading “Another Bullshit Night In Suck City” last week:
Thinking about ones future influenced by a book’s not too funny story line. Worst case scenario - maybe. But it happened to someone, it might as well happen to anyone. How much precautions, if any, can be taken? How to control ones fate and prevent it spiraling out of control? At which time is the direction set, the path cleared and how to get off the running train? Jump, run away, close your eyes, just swallow, smile, bright on the outside while dying on the inside. See you there.
But maybe it’s not that bad, maybe it won’t get that bad. We’re all hoping for the best, while we miss our opportunities to just make the best with what we have in our hands, at our fingertips. Instead, we embrace our drama, the tragedy so irresistible, the pain so appealing. Too numb too even feel anything else, emotions cut down to those we can barely handle. As long as we’re still falling, it can’t be that bad. Self-fulfilling prophecies. Self-medication. Let’s drown ourselves, just for the fun of it. Everything will turn out alright. It won’t be that bad. It can’t, right?