Posted in Thoughts

Cold

I’m getting tired of playing a losing game.

But since I’ve lost my biggest bet, when I went all in and wound up with nothing, every damn round feels like a losing game. Because now all I got left is a handful of chips I frantically scrapped off after my defeat.

Now suddenly every bet is a blind bet, every chance seems more like a risk, the odds are stacked against my favor, the hand I’m holding is weak, and I’ll get less than what I’m betting even if I do win.

So I’m folding at every round, content to just watch and observes as people bet their soul and riches.

Relegated to a detached spectator of other’s jackpot and catastrophe.

 

After all, nothing worth betting has come along.

 

 

 

 

 

 

À la mort, 

Daydream away crushes are meant to be just that: fancy phantasm to brighten my bleak days. When it cease to serves it purpose, then it’s time I hightailed out of there to find another castle in the air.

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Author:

An emotionally invested enthusiast of pop culture. Apathetic by design. Aesthetically offensive and eloquently candid. A sentimental heathen.

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