Truth be told, it isn't those days where everything goes wrong that I hold most in contempt. I find that the frustrations brought on by days such as these are always readily reincarnated as a strange determination to survive the rest of the shit those 24 hours have to offer.There is a sense of self-righteousness beneath every complaint, and personal consolations that tomorrow cannot be worse in comparison actually do give you hope. And even if you crumble midway, it always feels good that you tried.

It is days like today, when for some reason I still cannot feel secure even though the universe appears to have bent over backwards just so the events of the day would run in my favour, that I more or less abhor. It is not the absence of difficulties which leads to my discontentment. It is simply that this absence leaves barely anything to elicit any strong emotions, such that I basically spend the day, well, not exactly in indifference, but in nothing more than a slight awe of how the day’s happenings have been seemingly partial to me. There is no will to overcome pain, nor that sense of self-belief. I am not happy and I am not sad. There is nothing to be vexed about, and there’s also nothing I can bring myself to be excited over. It is as though all of my feelings have been turned down to such a degree that I feel almost less than human. And then I become aware, and being aware of the idleness of it all just makes me feel... hollow.