The clock shows a disturbing figure. It is now past noon and I am still huddling in my pyjamas in front of my pink, HP Mini. My long, awkward fingers tapping on the keyboard trying to spell out words to my thoughts and hoping it will somehow reach out to the world of the existence of my insignificant being.
The steady buzzing of my table fan drowns the sound of my own sanity, straight into oblivion. My head is crammed with negativity, thoughts of pain and misery overshadows all the light that has been bestowed upon me. How thankful I should actually be. But thankful I am not.
I can probably be the most ungrateful wretch that has ever walked the Earth. But then again, there are worse than I, and I believe I am safe to say that I am a far cry from the world's worst in any category known to man.
My issues are not something new ... at least not to the financial world. As the financial crisis that struck the world with its unforgiving might, slow and steadily slips away from the human memory (at least to those that have not suffered substantially might have forgotten it ever happened at all), my own personal financial crisis looms over me like a dark cloud threatening to unleash its most outrageous torrent it can ever manage.
And yet, I still am able to stay in my own box, known as 'denial'. I fail to be able to interpret the result of this whole mess is an impact of my own lack of ownership and accountability. It was from my own disgraceful spending habit that has caused so much pain to my own self.
Writing this all down is but merely a jest to the world. As if I am merely convincing myself that I know now what needs be done and that is to lessen my expenditure.
And yet, I can only talk the talk, but walking? There is just a too long path for me to seek, and the pride in me is holding me back from my journey to self-recovery.
Disappointment seems to follow me like a puppy to its master. Every step taken is under scrutiny, not by my own eyes nor the people around me. But by God himself. I sense the disappointment. I hear the long sigh from a distance and I look to the sky, and it is no longer blue as the moment I woke up. But a grey storm is looming as my blatant disregard for my own spirituality fades away into the darkness.
I must confess. It wasn't easy to write this piece as I felt ashamed that my actions has betrayed me and that I am suffering in my own feces of debt.
Alas, at such a young age with a mere two years of experience in the working world and already I have mastered the art of spending freely and without caution.
Has not time taught me anything? Each new incident of caution has crept upon me and enlightened me that my wrongdoings are just that ... wrong. But with each new 'miracle' I seem to forget the past so quickly, the sound of light is left in the dust like an old hound.
The past telephone call I made hopefully will be the last straw and hopefully, I will now understand the significance of my actions and the measures I must undertake to ensure my sanity remains intact.
This piece is a cry for help to all those who listen. I beg for a helping hand in my journey to a new and improved me. I plea for release from this prison that I have been sentenced to. I need to debt free or the very least, less in debt than I am currently in.
I hope, with some degree of poetic harshness, this warning will finally sink in and my eyes will thus open with wideness and my sight cleared with such clarity and debt will be deleted from my vocabulary.
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