Hard times

How else can you describe it? Perhaps, comparatively speaking, I am doing well. I have no debts, no one wants me dead, and I can even afford to eat whenever I want. No parasites are eating away my brain (I hope), and I am not forced to sell my body. And yet, if I read about my life in some work of fiction, I would think, “Damn, this guy doesn't have it easy.”

I left my homeland and now I can't go back, because that would mean I would be recruited and forced to kill or die. That kind of entertainment is not for me. I was smart enough to get a government grant and study at a university in a foreign country, specializing in something that I thought would not be a burden for me if I did it for the rest of my life. Engineering. But it didn't work out. I barely managed to hold on until my third year, but then there was so much work that I gave up. Many of the problems in my studies were, of course, due to the fact that I was studying in a language I had never learned before. But by the third year, I knew enough to pass everything. I just didn't have the strength.

Now I'm working and I have enough money to rent a basement apartment with my neighbor. She's my half-girlfriend. We broke up six months ago, but we're still trying to stay close and help each other, but it's getting harder and harder for both of us. 

I don't know, life just doesn't feel like an open space anymore, now it's just a corridor. Nothing is ruined. It's just that every day I have less and less strength. I have more and more different thoughts, but few of them are useful.  

I'll see what comes of it. 

Thanks for reading.