It sucks. What? Life, it sucks. Why? Because… it SUCKS. Must I really make a point here?

Oh well, it’s my own fault I started a blog that’s composed mostly of (more or less) articulated word sequences.

Since I can remember (around five years old) I’ve been wondering what’s really worth all this mess – by mess I mean ‘life’. When I was six, I thought it was watching cartoons when I got home from school (I had a terrible time there and that made the fictional characters ever more fascinating). Then adolescence came; it brought hormonal turbulence and it brought me down. Really. Whoever says it’s the time of your life – how can that be when: you think you know everything but are constantly proven wrong by people you think are stupid; you believe facial hair is the worst but then acne says ‘hi’; every time the guy you thought you would love forever – as long as forever can last a few months – just isn’t that interested, you wish you died but end up just being pathetic, because your name isn’t Juliet and your will to die isn’t stronger than your crave for one more chocolate bar – Cadbury’s, please.

Then, what? Your early twenties arrive. Hormones give you one more push. There you go. You want true love. You believe the pathetic in you is gone as are those stupid haircuts and t-shirts you used to wear. But don’t be so sure. You’re just about to realize that there’s nothing as rational and sensitive to being an adult as you were told. You abandoned your certainties for something else.. Reasonable thinking? Hmm, it’s not that. Rational decision-making? Not quite. Cynicism? Yeah, and sarcasm. Those are your rules, those are your weapons. Your pride is your kingdom and you must defend it against all that human kind.

You believe you have grown. In fact, you’ve just acquired new skills to play with. Children are not as innocent and sweet as most adults like to think. Adults are not as logical as children assume. We’re just playing our parts. And trust me, hormones would guarantee some of us the Oscar for leading role much quicker than any acting classes. And if you’re hanging on to read some sort of conclusion or greater thought on life… Maybe another time, on some other post. This one is about the non-meaning of life.


Are you anti-monologue?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s