Who am I?

Who am I, a fallen basketball player, an aspiring writer, a good friend. I have worn so many masks that I no longer know who I am. I’ve been lost for the past two years. Some days I wake up a different person, someone who I no longer recognize.

I am a man lost in the world’s complications. I have seen things that have led me to conclude that Fate is non-existent. Life is made up of random circumstances, connected by smiles and cries. I take a palm of pleasure from the enjoyable details in between: a quarter-pounder with cheese, a stick of Marlboro reds, sunrise and sunset, etc.

Happiness is a myth to me. A drug served in tiny doses or moments.

Movies make us feel as if we could be happy; we could be millionaires, and over-achievers. But we won’t. I refuse to be influenced by culture. My choices are based on self-interest not reputation, image, or status.

This is who I am. A man who’s dreams died out a long time ago. I live for today. I live for the moment because tomorrow never arrives. The world is my mind’s inspiration. My mind is a battleground between depression and sanity. I take solace in the truth, no matter how harsh or kind it can be.

There is no happy ending here.