It’s just another long, tired day of doing absolutely nothing, just like days after days before that and many, many days afterwards.   

I’m not complaining. My life is not even worthy of that amount of effort.  Like a valid gesture, it’s always been like that. Still I am not complaining. While there are many other human beings in this world that have been crushed down by heavy obligations, huge responsibilities, terrible tragedies like illness, heartbreaking loses, I really have nothing to whine about. Perhaps I even should kiss the feet of God for his generosities.

I wouldn’t claim that my life couldn’t stand some forgetting, but still who doesn’t? It’s all about adjustment. It’s not anyone’s but my fault if I couldn’t handle a few of my own. Some part of my mind that remembered things like courage, dream knew that it’s time to stop being pointless, it’s time to focus and regroup myself to function. Couldn’t be helped. I’ve already have gone too far into the abyss of frustrations and numbness.

Perhaps it’s not bad to be pointless. Just float through from one day to another, without leaving a trace. All you really need to do is try not to think about the future, the future so insubstantial to the point of cruelty. Yeah, that’s all about you need to do. Days would blend into traceless months, years and eventually to the final ending. Why not? What’s the point of raising up hope that lead to nothing but a cold, hard wall? What’s the use of fighting for a losing battle?

Let me believe that I have all the time in the world to just wonder around, to ride with the tide. Just for a while.