Shit

Somehow, I have the uncanny ability to turn the best moments of my life into shit.

Last night was supposed to be magical. For the first time, I was face-to-face with the person who I admired greatly and has kept me crazy for the longest time. But somehow, it wasn't as I wanted it to be. Instead of feeling the moment, feeling the passion, feeling the magic that was surrounding me, I was there sulking and feeling low. It was as if somehow, I had thrown myself from the pinnacle of heaven to the deepest bowels of hell.

I know why these things happen; that wasn't the first time that I felt that way. It haunts me so much that for the nth time, I was able to depress myself again for no apparent reason.

The root of all this shit isn't obscure to me: I know why I do these things and why I keep on making myself unhappy. But I just can't help myself. Seeing him leading the crowd in a whirling drama of song and music just reminded me on how I have--time and again--wished and loved the things that would never wish for me nor love me back.

I'm tired of making all the wrong moves and all the wrong decisions. I'm tired of wishing for things that are too far from my reach. I'm tired of this feeling of loneliness and helplessness. I'm tired of all my dreams and my aspirations. I'm tired of my life.

I am so tired.

If only there was prozac for unfulfilled wishes, broken dreams and unrequited love. If only there were answers to all my prayers and all my questions. If only there was something that will make me realize why the hell I still need to breathe and continue on with my boring--and now dangerously deadly--life.

Then again, everything is just shit.