I looked into the mirror uncertain.
Only a few days have gone by, and I'm startled by the person I see staring back.
Red all over. Red eyes. If I didn't have any sense in me, I would have thought it was the devil incarnate.
Oh, yes, that must be the 500 ml Heineken i just downed.
Another session of crying fits.
The dark times are just about to start.
Gray cast skies with no storm in sight.
The anger and hate have been successfully contained ... within.
The feelings of hate have been replaced by a void -
There is a darkness within me, continually fed by a growing uncertainty.
Is a mistake still a mistake when it was willfully committed?
Or do you call that stupidity?
I find solace in the fact that my mind is no longer preoccupied with hate.
It seems more exhaustive and destructive.
My mind and thoughts are preoccupied with - what else - uncertainty.
Preoccupied with thoughts of the future - of a possibility, of a bleakness I might have brought upon myself.
I wonder though.
If the body requires calories to function, what does the soul feed on?
Hope? And I guess, faith to some certainty.
Just a several days have gone by, and uncertainty, the enemy of hope, has already eaten through my reserve.
As the days, weeks and months come to pass, I'm almost certain that a very different me will come about.
I see a more solemn me.
A stark contrast to the me I always imagined I would be post quarter life (25).
But that's life, and its uncertainties.
God throws a wrench into the gears, and the next thing you know, well, you're broken.
I've acquiesced to isolate myself for the time being; deactivated Facebook and removed several applications from my iPhone. I need twitter for my news feed. Although, posts should come about less frequently - or none at all if i manage.
I've gone to thread the path of darkness.
And there's no way out until a certain amount time has come to pass.
I've initiated my ruination to cover up the brewing hatred.
Tic toc. Time's up.