We believe that our choices in life are ours, but the sad
reality is they are not. We live in a concept, breathe in ideas, and eventually
cease – making life all the more meaningful. It is inevitable and impossible to
change one’s fate. Living becomes mundane. Love becomes an escape. Death
becomes a choice. 

  

It was another boring day that made me cringe. I longed for
a good story – watching it or reading- just to quench my starving soul. I
browsed for the top watched, most positive reviews but must also have a good
ending. My heart seems unable to take on more sad endings in stories and real
life. Attempts to water the dry desert of my being can fail twice and succeed
once. That one success gives my time more meaning yet un-rewarding. I longed
for good stories. 

  

As I watched and read along, I find this particular series intertwined
with my perspective. It resonated so deeply that I had to take a pause from binge-watching.
I went outside to gaze upon my surroundings. It was cold yet peaceful but was broken
by the mechanical noise of a passing automobile. Once it passed though, I sat
and was mesmerized once more. 

  

My companion in life was not of the same species but
nonetheless, he was warm. I sat on the pavement I once sat with my
ex-girlfriend, where we first kissed. It was a happy memory, full of warmth and
compassion – with a little bit of lust. But that night, I prefer the company of
a furry animal rather than of the same species. Comparing both experiences of
my past life and current life – it was not bad at all. 

  

Love can exist in different forms, but the feeling of warmth
amidst the cold was comforting. As I sat and stared blankly before continuing
the series I watched, raindrops begin to fall. Small tiny droplets of water trickle
down my skin. It jolted me back to reality.  

“This is my life now. How to proceed?” 

  

I made coffee and continued the series. I finished it as the
light of day started to brighten my view. The sunlight was dazzling. I had to tuck
in for my heartbeat was rapidly increasing. My blood pressure was unstable – it
is primarily my fault though. Nevertheless, I do not care much at all. I chose
to live my life to be a spectator. Like a tree that does not move from its
place, I want to grow my roots and branches in a limited space. 

  

Such is life now. No dreams. No goals. No wanting. Only
breathing. 

  

As I lay and gaze upon the window of my room, I took a
picture of it. Posted it on Instagram. Captioned what I felt at that exact moment.
 

  

“The most cruel
thing in life is fate but we can only accept, endure - and live life to its
fullest.” 

  

I take meds to increase the chances of waking up another day
– to watch or read stories from others. Stories give me peace. They give my
life meaning. Even though I have no dreams of my own, I still wanted to finish
the books I have paused – on which I cannot. Time is infinite but mine is
limited. And as I am now awake and watching the rain fall, I did manage to
complete this episode.


 

Ahh. I think I should make coffee and browse for another
story. Thankful for the free pack of cigarettes this day. Thankful that I got
to live – just for a moment longer – to add another meaning to my dull
existence.