Holding myself together – with tapes, superglues and also staples literally.
I like how the above sentence sounds. It’s true and totally makes sense if you knew the story behind it. Being independent is so god damn challenging, and I find myself falling apart at times when the weight of the whole world seems to lie on you.
My belt snapped weeks ago, and the genius me thought stapling it together could save me a few bucks. So I did. And then the fucking steel buckle cracked few days ago. Good, never mind the fucking belt can still be used. My watch strap got spoilt during a teambuilding program, and so I superglued it together. Then two days ago, the bloody table fan’s blade broke and decided to fling itself out when the fan was still spinning. Managed to dodge the Final Destination-isque kind of death situation. I wonder how it would have been if the blade hits my face and splitted into two. Gross.. tried to tape the blade together, didn’t work. And so I taped paper strips on the fucking imba-fan so that the fan can still be used, the paper windmill kind of thing. My whole room is like a dog kennel, no, worse than a dog kennel. At least last time, my messy room feels like a room to me. This one here is empty. An empty room with just a bed, a “paper” fan and dirty clothes. Small, enclosed, narrow void. No space for me to move around except tossing and turning around on the bed. I have to be extra careful not to swing my dick around so hard, as to not hit my precious accidentally, unnecessarily.
This crappy part of my life, it ain’t gonna last long. That’s what i remind myself of, everyday.