the last ditch

we often fool ourselves into thinking we can keep our lives occupied and numb our feelings while taking comfort in the hope of a soul's promise of love, of happiness, and of something we seek and apparently cling to--security. oftentimes we get confused and hung up beyond question (not that we can help it), the difference sprawls in how we live through the temporary misery.

but how do we weather the suffering when that soul sanctimoniously mutilated us? its like an obscuring haze. when it sets in, its astonishing how dense and impenetrable it seems. we become utterly helpless or inept. i feel, and much of the grief that is inflicted on me arises mainly from people who think they're entitled to disregard others of its kind. we take pride of them and this is what we get.

i am disabled. i cannot function well. sometimes i don't even know why i exist. can anybody please tell me what is fair?

perhaps some people are never meant to be happy. *sigh*