The Monster!
Dear Reader,
I have been in an endless despair with since the beggining of the week. Tears have been a continues visitor of my eyes wetted my pillow every night companied with loud hiccups escaping in between my breath.
I have been trying to find little things to thanks for like the house I have that protect me from the endless cold of the country I am studying in, and my friends who keeps me not isolated from the world. I am lucky in the most basic sense, I have no crimbling addiction that would hold me back or prevent me to keep my pace up.
Beside these circumstances, however, I also bare some stress within my life that would separate me from my friends and their lovely lives that seems to not burden such unfortunates like mine. Once I see their life being able live care free only focusing on their studies and able to spend their leasure times drinking as they want and go back to visit their families if not a new place to sight see, I feel seperated.
Me in another lifetime.
The despration I have been trying to endure cannot be compared with the feeling of not be given the same chance in life as my counterparts that I have spend so much time with. I have been working to pay my rent and apply for scholarships, looking at the hands of other people in all while also swimming in the same pool of people that the life give the money to cover both the things that I have been trying so hard to achieve. At the end of the day, the only thing that would catch the attention of the admission of some graduate schools will be the GPAs is even hurting me more because they will not be the one to see challenges that I had to endure on the way to get the results of the people I am competing with, if not lower ones.
Dear reader, these are all the things that led me to be sick with desperation for the last one week. I had not a fever but a for ever exhaustion in my blood stream that would not allow me to even get the sheets of my bed out of me, let alone take myself out. I have been reading Frankestein by Mary Shelly who would be able to, I believe, describe the status I am in more accurately. I feel the load of emotions that Victor Frankestein felt after creating the monster as he calls it. However, my monster is the life itself. I am forced to wake up every morning and look in the eyes of this ugly monster, deal with it nonstop every day and the though of having another day full inequality again is tremendously consume my energy leaving me nothing to even start my day with.
I am well aware that this piece of essay is, in fact, so depressing it would pull some of you to be depressed for your own sake, and please let me say sorry for the inconvinience. I would not like to effect you in such bad way as the words of depression come out of my mouth so carelessly. However, you should take in to account the fact that this is a reality, and certainly a small part of my collection of life, the endless war of dealing with my monster.
