Nothing gets me feeling high like feeling a little low

A scene from Waiting for Godot [via Google Images]. Absurdism gets me every bloody time.

Too many things in life are overrated. Is it really worth it, all the things we keep fighting for, day in and day in and day in? 

Job, I could lose in a day. Money too. A degree is infinitesimal at the end of it all. Take it from someone who could have been doing a proper moderately well-earning job (already having completed a degree and all), but is instead doing an internship. Not to say that it's awful. Not to say that it isn't fancy. Not to say that I would rather not have it, but that's how it is.

What's left, then, at the end of a day? Love, I guess you'd say. 

But this is bad, the place I'm at - Being Cynical. Why then, does it feel familiar - like an old house I've come back to after many years? Things are a little dusty here, a little rusty there. And there are many bones lying around.

But it's a home I once lived in, a home that mattered.

I left it eventually. Stopped being cynical, more or less. But I'm always afraid a bubble will burst. And the worst bit is, sometimes there isn't even a bubble. Alles scheint hoffnungslos zu sein*. And I find that I can't even rest on cynicism, because I left it, and then it left me. Call it sour grapes, call it escape, call it cowardice. But it was always there for me when other things weren't, wasn't it?

I know I'm not making much sense and I'm going to stop now. It's just that I wonder sometimes, what it's all for. I want this and that and that. Say I get it. What then?

Yours pensively,

The Cyniqueen

*Everything seems hopeless.