loser (?)

My eyes were fixed on the monitor, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I kept asking myself how long will I be doing this to myself. Everyday, I am a candle about to go kaput. I have wanted to leave this place but where else would I go? I can't just turn my head from the reality that my monthly contribution is somehow being expected, which I won't be able to provide if I trade my current job for something with more vigor, say, maybe in a bookshop or in a music haven. Yes, more substance perhaps, but less pay. Less pay means less help. Still another case of 'Damn if you do, damn if you don't'.

So I looked like a poor little girl in a corner all by herself with a book my only companion. I looked like a kid left alone by the entire class because our Mrs. I-Never-Had-Sex-For-50-Years Terror teacher scolded me for not doing my homework when everybody else, even the bully douche-baggary that only gets by copying some poor chap's assignment and pass it as his own complete with a forged parent's signature, did. Yeah, I messed up alright. I feel like blasting Beck's Loser over all the speakers in this room.

"Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?"

I have built myself a semi-invisibilty cloak. A distant unfathomable black hole lightyears away from the entire bright and colorful Milky Way. A cold dark cave inside of a murky swamp. I could feel my head throbbing lightly now, but I don't feel any drag. At least not until the next maybe couple of hours when my medications no longer have any trace in my bloodstream. That's fine. By the time this drug wears off, I'm out of here.

Okay, so I seem to be the loser here. Now what? How can one say if I won instead. Of which battle? And if I'm the loser, who won then? And, was what I "lost" something even with a milligram of worth?

If I'm the loser, so what? Will that make themselves feel a whole lot better? Will that echo into their empty depths that they are the greatest fucktards who ever lived? Maybe, I was the loser...a loser for a fight I never returned. I try to look comfortably numb, just like what Pink Floyd would reverberate. But no, I only feel uncomfortably bothered. Bothered by an invisible ghost that I never fully understood. Bothered by a truth that never redeemed itself. Somehow, I know that it existed. Somehow, I know that it still surrounds me. And I know I sound like a psychopath, but this is the truth. At least this is MY truth. A one-sided truth. And this truth, I have been wanting, needing, waiting to take its rest and dry up under this Earth, buried and forgotten.

My eyes were fixed on the monitor but my thoughts were elsewhere. I swear I could have looked like a schizophrenic on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I don't care. My headache is increasing now. I haven't taken a decent lunch, but I'm not hungry though. I am running only from the calories and whatnots of two cups of coffee, a chocolate Hot Loops doughnut, and a boiled egg. But I have my medications to thank, for helping me not to sink down to the very bottom of my turbulent sea today, for giving me a higher threshold than the usual seabed.

In 10 minutes, I will be out of here. I will have my freedom, although a momentary one. Tomorrow, I will have to do this creep show act all over again. An act, yes, that I am numb and unaffected. An act excruciating and exhausting underneath, which shouldn't even be to begin with.


...:::j u l i e:::...