It Ought To End Up Well

Bad morning! Bad luck! Bad life! I am sorry for being so negative. But you know, I feel like am raised into it. You can hardly understand it. I wonder how you would feel if you were to awaken to hangover you did not drink to have. You didn't drink much last night but wake up vomiting and sleep-walking and self-talking. How defeated you must feel. I see. It is not easy. Losing without being a loser is quite painful, all right. Battling to death, even when you never started it, is an enormous defeat in itself. Lying in bed, doing nothing of purpose but only thinking about how your unconditional love and care and protectiveness paid you off, fucked you, murdered you and left you in a state of deep nothingness, a trap of sorts. You know, you cannot get out of it this easily. In fact, I say, you cannot get out of it and call yourself a winner. You will still be a loser, for it was because of losing that you were thrown into this trap. Those who fucked you have found new lovers, have moved on effortlessly and are living happy lives. Wish them luck! And fuck yourself! God damn you, you fine son of a bitch! Your father didn’t work hard on you to see you lie defeated. Your mother didn’t love you to see you cry for someone who sucked off your good emotions, your precious times, your humanity, your love, your lips, your crotch and what not, and left you with nothing but bruises and scars, with nothing to be content about. Your siblings didn’t motivate you to see you do nothing but brooding over the losses that you merrily invited in your life. Yes, you are immature. You left your family to build another with somebody else. You denied love of your loved ones to offer love to someone who didn’t deserve it. You abandoned your home sweet home to rent a small room in a heart whose owner never allowed a renter to stay for more than a couple months (or years, if you are paying a handsome price). You are a stupid fucking bastard! You deserve to be cursed. Even now, after knowing the reality of people who pretended to love you but actually drained you of your peace, you still want to go back and apologize for mistakes you never committed. You are ready to say sorry to the person who doesn’t know the damned meaning of it. After all, they have never used it. But that is how love plays its tricks. That is how it’s got to be. Love is a stupid dog from hell. And what you hear about it or know or expect is nothing but a mirage. I don’t see why we need to “find” love. I don’t see why we wish to fuck ourselves with another big issue of the universe. We are never satisfied with the problems we have. We want more. I think we like stupidifying ourselves. We like to be messed up. We like to be betrayed and cry silently in one corner of the room. But that’s how love goes on—losing yourself just to see a smile on somebody’s face, killing your wishes to fulfill those of the other person, fighting a thousand people to reserve your place in the heart of that one person you adore most, abandoning heavens to sleep beside them, to talk to them, to hear them say that we are who they wish to be with. That is how love is—forgetting yourself to remember the memories you made with that one person, doing anything and everything you don’t like to see them excited, never sleep until midnight waiting for them to call up. Nothing of all this happens actually but we still go hard at work. Nothing lasts forever but we strongly hope it to be so. We like doing it all right. We become them. The lucky ones are showered return-gifts from the Heaven for their selfless industry and dedication for cultivating love but the unlucky ones are left alone. I am sorry. We are all sorry for them, except those who got selfish enough to suck them off, to fuck them up. The unlucky ones turn lazy and crazy since they have lost faith in determination and dedication reaping good results. They are of opinion that cheaters live great lives whereas those who focus and work hard with a totally selfless intention are left to die in a gutter. They have lost faith in humanity, in purpose, in love. I am sorry for them. Honestly speaking, I curse their betrayers and pray to God that they forget the losses and find themselves. No more crying, no more cursing, no more blaming, no more smoking, no more drinking, no more contemplating suicide, no more isolating, no more waiting… just forgiving and forgetting and striving to find oneself, just wishing luck to the new lovers and praying for their well-being, just loving oneself and cherishing the good emotions, just reading good books and watching good movies and eating light food and having good conversations with the select few good souls, just throwing one’s soul to every open door and counting one’s blessings and seeking the ultimate goal and turning sorrows and regrets into strengths and optimism and purpose. 

Remember, when life hints you to put a full-stop after a sentence, don’t replace it with a comma. Or you'll miss writing a more beautiful one.

Good evening, mates!