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There was a time when I concluded that things would never change; that I’d always be poor, relegated, defeated.
This conclusion seemed final, and because I was not going to live with it, I was just waiting until the right time to quietly and comfortably end it all.
This conclusion seemed final, and because I was not going to live with it, I was just waiting until the right time to quietly and comfortably end it all.
It wasn’t even a depressive thought, but just a calm rational acceptance that this was the verdict on things as they related to my life and reality.
My logic was clear, it seemed, and my mind was set.
My logic was clear, it seemed, and my mind was set.
I carried on normally, and did the things I was supposed to do. But I had this silent smile, almost as if I was out of my own body, looking down on the rest of the world, seeing them hustling like rats and just smirking and going through the motions.
