I literally woke up this morning to face a nightmare, head on. Time stood still for almost ten minutes for me and if it wasn’t for time itself reminding me that I would be late for work, I would’ve gladly crawled right back under my covers and sleep everything away like I tend to do whenever I can nowadays.
I think this entire thing, all these recent issues and that nagging sense of insecurity rolled into one massive ball, has finally sunk in.
On the way to work I kept thinking about how people say money won’t buy you happiness. You always hear of the sad stories of rich billionaires who lead lonely lives in huge mansions, rotting their days away. I guess in that context, it’s true, but see no one said that you’d need a whole lot of love, purpose and sense of belonging to make up for the loss in material wealth. It just makes sense that if you’ve nothing else left to lean on, financial security really does bring you the least bit of contentment any ordinary person would need to continue surviving.
Dammit, I don’t even wear perfume anymore.
At times I feel like I’m a breed between Aunty Agony and Santa Claus, ready to relieve anyone of their worries and then give them something to lift their spirits in return. But lately I’ve been feeling more like the epitome of hypocrisy when giving out words of strength to everyone else.
Oh God, this is ridiculously painful and awkward to read, even for me.
Please head to my Twitter/Tumblr/Facebook so you’ll see I’m actually not this pathetically hopeless & withdrawn most of the time.
Hope you’re doing well out there, mes petits chéris.