Now it would be pointless to ask for forgiveness. Not from you, whoever you are out there reading and thinking. I fucked up and that's the only thing on my mind at the current time. I fucked up, but regardless I wouldn't have changed the procedure. If anything, I'd been more careful, more conscient. I would've paid attention and perhaps changed the outcome of things. Even more so, I would've been humble, admit my limitations when the time was due for it.
All day long I have been repeating myself there's an alrenate reality where I succeed, and even another one where there isn't anything to worry about. I keep wishing how much I'd like to live on those alternate worlds, but that is impossible, because I'm allready living in those othere worlds.
It's exasperating and even the sheer thought of having to wake up tomorrow to face it all again worries me. This whole thing worries me because there seems to be no hope. It always seems that way. And I know there's a way out and I know there's a means to achieve all that I want but the road just seems blackened by it. It scares me, I'm scared.
Just to hear those words, to think of them as a dark omen of things to come sets me in a very umpleasant mood.
"Give up on your dreams"
I don't know how things will go from here on and I don't know how time will play out: on my favor or against me. Just to sumarize it all, I feel alone and desperate, clinging to whatever little hope there is that somewhere down the road someone will get interested, will fight and even have a winning argument. That somehow, someway it won't be all in bane and I'll be given one last chance to proove that I can make it out of here.
I fucked up, but just because I wanted time. I was buying my chances, leaving to chance that I was gonna make it unsacthed. I was wrong, I've been wrong for so many things lately and now I'm balancing the outcome, serving as a mark, an indent to the story and how it trasnforms from mere possibility to the last outcomes.
I've been put aside, forgotten by some, not out of spite or relentlesness. There's just nothing for me to inform, nothing for me to report or make sure someone notices...at least, I hadn't thus far. I always feel like running when the walls are closing in, who doesn't, really?
The last thing left for me to do is hope. Pray to whomever is willing to bend the rules and help, and hope. After all is over, I will find a way, given the worst of cases. But I don't want it to go that far. I want to make sure everything will be ok, will be resolved.
I wept for the only thing that can make me crumble and fall is failure, and I failed.
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