Pâro
n. the feeling that no matter what you do is always somehow wrong—as if there's some obvious way forward that everybody else can see but you.
Broken. Dejected. Tired.
I tell them I'm falling, they don't listen to me. I try again and the only response I get is silence. The third time when I attempt, they ask me why with a laugh like I told them a joke. And that's when I get silent.
Things get out of hands so slowly and steadily that I can't make it out where was the point I lost myself completely. Was it that night I cried silently, muffled my sobs in the silence. Or was it when all of my efforts turned to dust in a matter of few seconds, leaving me dispirited.
I try. I try so much not to get demoralized. To keep that freaking things called a smile up on my lips, to accept changes, to accept defeat, to move on and tell myself that it's okay but it doesn't work so much now. I have done all the little tricks that used to work in the past but things just keep slipping from my hands and I see everything crashing before my eyes but I don't do anything. I can't do anything. I wonder why.
I'm so done sacrificing everything. I don't wanna compromise my everything for something so obscure. For people so ungrateful, for the future sill pending, for the life so unpredictable and for me so pitiless. Life was always a battle but I think I'm fighting against myself now. Am I still in this fight or have I lost?
Something's are just getting on my nerves, you know? Here is me, such a big supporter of faith and belief in one's efforts, in one's God, of optimism and here is me again writing this like it's a suicide note.
You know, like there's a piece of elastic, you keep pulling on it. But it's flexible, it's made to be pulled apart. You keep exerting force, trying to tear it apart. And a time comes that it point reached its breaking point. that if you apply even a single ounce of force now, it will break. That's where I am.
I hate being despaired but it's getting frustrating. I put so much into everything but all I hear is doors getting shut close with a deafening boom right before me. I'm tired. I don't want to do anything now. I don't how to manage life. This life, this career, these people can go to hell for all I care. They've given me nothing but torment.
Now that I glance in the past, I think I used to be pretty expert at it. Dealing with stuff like a pro. Tying the world and all its sorrows and the problems it shoved at me, on my finger with a flick of my hair to the side. Without a worry.
When will things get better? I might die asking myself that question every wretched minute, at every heart broken rejection.
Please don't ask me why I'm writing this. I think I would have been bit more happier if I knew the reason why it's all happening.
Don't ask me why. That time has long gone.