As I gracefully fell face first into a heaping pile of my own vomit, reality smacked me clean in the face.

What events forced me to end up like this? I haven’t the slightest idea. I could blame it on her, but that’s way too easy. Sure she drove me to the brink of insanity on a nightly basis, as did I, to myself, upon my awakening each morning. Sure she put me in a constant state of confusion, as did the thoughts that crossed my mind at night. Blaming her for my downfalls felt so right.

When I begin to think about how the whole thing started, I realize how wrong it was. How can a fruit pulled from a withered tree be delectable? Imagination and aspiration can often obstruct reality. The truth is that there was no hope from the beginning. The truth is that there’s still no hope, and there never will be hope.

So what exactly was this goal? Do I still strive to obtain it? Do I even know what it is? I know what I want in life. Well, I have a general idea of the likes. To say I want happiness is idiotic. I might as well claim to be human.