A Post Mortem. A prelude.

I gave up what was left of the little joy i get from my so called "Ethereal Life". That part of my soul that makes me want to get up every morning. It's not my obvious life i am talking about, it's that secret world i live in where i can be anything. I think it's more commonly known as a "dream" to most people. hehe. Maybe it could've been easier or nicer (at least) if there's some kind of acknowledgement to my delusions. Yea, i gave it time. I gave it a chance to grow more fruitful. And yes, i was delusional that it will ever be. What was i hoping for anyways? I do not know. I never got that far to resolve an ending yet. I was just in the "maybe, there was something there" stage. The "so... what now?" was another bridge to cross. In truth really... it wasn't even there to begin with. It was really an illusion. It wasn't even an elusive dream... there was really nothing. As i said, i am disillusioned. I am just a 4-lettered word on a scrabbling world. A "filler" we call in the industry; filling the empty spots in a paginated book. For what? So that the running text will not move to ruin a prescribed layout. You see, if something remains unmoved despite the many efforts to be noticed, it dispels your own enchanted moment. If you force them to move just to please you... that just takes away the joy altogether. If nothing moves us, nor touch our heart in what little willingness we can give... it is futile. So there really is no purpose whatsoever anymore to even hope. It's just me. It's not anybody's fault. I decided to trap myself into this. I didn't even ask if i can. It could be the best thing in my life at the moment, with nothing else anyways.... but wallowing in this pit any longer is not going to help any. Nothing will matter. Nothing is gained. Nothing is lost. Only what's left of what little joy i had from my so called "ethereal life".