failed
I failed. Spectacularly. A catastrophic collapse of a soul once naive enough to hope. Yes, I wear my failure like a crown of thorns — not proudly, but because denial is far too exhausting. The world knew I was doomed the moment I entered it. A cosmic joke. A breathing paradox of existence and worthlessness. Every step forward I took, life — or maybe some cruel god — shoved me ten steps back into the abyss. I tried. God, I tried. But the universe doesn’t reward effort, it devours it. I failed as a son — an echo of disappointment in the walls of my home. I failed as a student — just a name on a list, followed by silence. I failed as a human — drifting through life, not living it. And yet I persist. Not because I’m resilient, but because I lack the courage to disappear. I exist in limbo — not alive, not dead, just breathing out of habit .
