Feeling bored is a dangerous business
I have just had a bad case of boredom; and it definitely led to a broken promise and shifting moral lines; both of which are terrible but the latter was more damaging; it numbed the guilt of a broken promise... Anyway, just thought I'd write it down to "commemorate" another "milestone" in my journey to hell. Ah, that's not to say I had belief I'd have a place in heaven...
But back to the broken promise, I've actually been chipping away at it for the past 4 years. I'm only a human afterall and the temptation has always been too great to resist. Actually I could still pretend that the wall that held that sacred promise is still partially standing and not thoroughly grounded to fine powder underneath my feet as I traversed the back alley of life... Yeah maybe I'd think just that; like how I've doing these past 4 years; it eased whatever little guilt I could still muster.
With the wisdom of hindsight, I realised that years after I took the wrong exit from the beautiful highway, I've never been able to leave the labyrinth of small alleys behind. Instead I delved deeper into the heart of the maze in my failed and nonexistent attempt to try and follow a different one-way traffic out, because backtracking was not an option. So unless a helicopter drop a ladder down to me (that is if it can find me), I guess I'd better learn to get the best out of my surrounding by appreciating the only white dot in a sea of black ink and disregarding with disinterest the swrling mass of blackness trying to engulf the little inland of high ground I found myself anchored at presently. Like the tide at the edge of a great ocean, the black water will eventually recede far enough for me to step onto the next high ground, from where I could maybe catch a longing glimpse of the smooth black aspalt of the highway. Or better still, I could alert the chopper my whereabout. In this case, an easy ride is better that a harsh trek, no matter the general wisdom which says that things of value are not easily attainable (my verboseness is waning by the minute, better leave while it's good).
But back to the broken promise, I've actually been chipping away at it for the past 4 years. I'm only a human afterall and the temptation has always been too great to resist. Actually I could still pretend that the wall that held that sacred promise is still partially standing and not thoroughly grounded to fine powder underneath my feet as I traversed the back alley of life... Yeah maybe I'd think just that; like how I've doing these past 4 years; it eased whatever little guilt I could still muster.
With the wisdom of hindsight, I realised that years after I took the wrong exit from the beautiful highway, I've never been able to leave the labyrinth of small alleys behind. Instead I delved deeper into the heart of the maze in my failed and nonexistent attempt to try and follow a different one-way traffic out, because backtracking was not an option. So unless a helicopter drop a ladder down to me (that is if it can find me), I guess I'd better learn to get the best out of my surrounding by appreciating the only white dot in a sea of black ink and disregarding with disinterest the swrling mass of blackness trying to engulf the little inland of high ground I found myself anchored at presently. Like the tide at the edge of a great ocean, the black water will eventually recede far enough for me to step onto the next high ground, from where I could maybe catch a longing glimpse of the smooth black aspalt of the highway. Or better still, I could alert the chopper my whereabout. In this case, an easy ride is better that a harsh trek, no matter the general wisdom which says that things of value are not easily attainable (my verboseness is waning by the minute, better leave while it's good).