It’s sad, but true. No one cares about me and my mother. All of our friends have proved to be fair weather friends…life seems to be regressing into worse and worse scenarios…I feel so…very depressed by all that. The paradox of human friendship…it’s a troubling thought that has been bothering me forever…well, for my cognitive life so far. And when everything is falling down about our ears, no one gives a damn. Everyone turns away, faces the opposite direction. Any sign of compassion or humane treatment has faded into literature a long time ago. I am a cynic, aren’t I? Well, it’s to be expected. Who could have endured what we have endured without becoming a believer in only the dark, cruel side of humanity? When has a good, noble side of humanity ever existed? And God…where is he? Up there in the clouds, powerless to help us? What about that book of his, the Bible? All those words are meaningless when its Creator fails to keep his promises to those who try to follow him. I was a fool to have ever believed in Catholicism or God’s goodness. My soul is hurting…I am pleading with God to heal it, to make our lives whole again. But he has failed. He has also turned away like everyone else. What can I believe in now?
Aside from my despair, I managed to publish my 79th article today on the Examiner. The worlds in literature that I love seem so far away…I feel like I cannot read anymore. My imagination feels like it’s dead. Or unconscious. I feel like…I have no goals. My destiny or my fate is a blank page. But my past, my memories, and my agonies can never be unwritten. Not by God or any human. It would take a real miracle to heal the wounds and the scars left on my mind, my soul, my heart…my very innermost self.