Most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

It seems that all I do lately is stare into space. 

I know it does no good to think about the things that make me upset. Inexplicably though, I'd think about them anyway.

Is it degrading to admit that you're wounded? 

I for one, think that it is.

They say that there's light at the end of the tunnel. I think I saw that light. Even careless enough to reach out for it. 

Well, as it turns out, there is light. But just as I'm about to get used to the brightness, I'm back into another tunnel. Pushed into another deep abyss of darkness. One that gives me the impression that no good will ever come out from resisting it.

How much blow can a single person take before they finally give up?

It's easy to get on with life when you decide to look beyond yourself and you see just how blessed you are. I know I'm blessed. And whatever issue I'm dawned upon is inflicted by myself. Self-blaming though, proved to be just as self-harming as I previously thought I was being when I let my grief take control of me. 

And if you see the logic of it, if you dare to live life as if there's only black and white then I guess it'd be pretty simple. I see the logic of things and more often than not, I'd try to follow it. There's only one unfortunate obstacle; the world is not black and white. 

Life isn't simple.

The future isn't predictable.

So you go through life with uncertainties and no leverage at all to guarantee that you'd find that happiness you so covet for. Your confidence wavers and becoming more fragile as days go by. 

But then again, I haven't found any solution to overcome this- which begs the question, why do I find it necessary to confess to this?
Nothing good ever comes from displaying weakness. 

I guess I am indeed fragile and sad and lonely.

But I will overcome this- whatever this is. Even if I don't, maybe things won't turn out as badly as I think it will.
Just.. maybe.