It’s Monday morning and I couldn’t go to work today. My life in all its shattered glory felt unbearable. I dreamt of a barbed wire covered log being pounded into my chest, piercing the skin and brushing the heart all at the same time. I day dream more about it than the future anymore. I pray to God to end my suffering. In the stories of old, God always listened to his followers. Or for an atheist, the universe has a way of answering your questions. I asked and asked for 24 years, yet there’s no answer. Does that mean God/universe doesn’t exist? I don’t think so. It exists but it just can’t bother to answer me. I was tired of repeating my story to family and friends. So I dialed 1-800-xxx-xxxx and sang like a canary. Did it help me calm down? No. The calm voice on the other end lit a fire in me so bright, to just burnt away all self-pity and I was angry. And frustrated. And tired of repeating my life’s story. New chapters are added every day but despite my best efforts to make them more happy or content, I just couldn’t.
Still, I’m here. I lived to tell the sad tale. Good for me. or not?