Realizing the actual fact and accepting the reality of it all, when chasing something that I can’t have or pursuing something that is beyond my means, it is the most exciting period of life. My life, at least. Bugs in my stomach that fuelled my feelings of being alive. I was alive. I was a writer, a poet, a reader, a traveller, a philosopher and everything else that you can think of, inside a magician’s top hat.

Now, my stomach is all empty and I keep filling it up with grease and carbohydrate, which put a rhetorical smile on my face every time (and a few solid pounds). Happiness is the enemy. Having things that I thought I wanted, within my own means, left me rottenly bored to death. Dead. The kind of death that is not worth for any mourning, even from myself.

Happiness is the enemy, and I have lost.


Ok, now let’s see what’s on tv.