Life: Midnight Existence

I don’t need to tell you about the silence. It’s the kind of silence that screams louder than a bullet, like the world’s forgotten you ever mattered.

Listen, pal, I know how life can hit you when the hour's late, and the world outside is a black pit, sucking the light right out of you.

I’ve been there.

Sitting alone in my office, the only company is the dim glow of a half-dead lamp and the cold creeping in through the cracks in the window. The kind of cold that cuts straight to the bone, not unlike the way regret claws at your insides. I don’t need to tell you about the silence. It’s the kind of silence that screams louder than a bullet, like the world’s forgotten you ever mattered. You’re there, looking at a stack of tasks that ain't gonna resolve themselves.

You start thinking about the mess you’ve made of your life. You look at the pile of mistakes behind you, the ones that never leave, always hanging in the air like smoke. Memories, like cheap whiskey, leaves you with a bitter aftertaste — memories that never made papers but haunt your every step.

And the present? It’s a relentless grind. In this day and age, we must run as fast as we can, just to stay in one piece. And if you wish to go anywhere… hell, you must run thrice as fast and it’s not humanly possible. We’re just scraping by from paycheck to paycheck.

You can't see the future; it’s just a dark road leading to another dead end. You keep telling yourself that the next day, the next project, the next job, the next drink — maybe they’ll be different, but deep down, you know they won't be. It’s a lie, but you’re stuck in it like quicksand. And there ain’t a soul alive that can pull you out.

Somewhere in the past, that is no longer true, you had your ████████, your ████ ████ or your ████. But now? You are all alone in this daily grind with a pinch of misery. You’re alone, and that’s the bitterest pill. You sit there, the night swallowing you whole, and all you can hear is the click-clack of the keys as you type out yet another damn report that won’t change a damn thing.

So here we are — haunted by regrets piled up like yesterday’s newspapers, suffocating under the weight of today’s troubles, and staring down an uncertain tomorrow. What’s the point of rising up each morning? What’s the point of dragging yourself to sleep and waking up to another round of the same old misery?

I’ll give you a little piece of advice from someone who’s seen more shadows than a blind man’s nightmares: even in this world of lies and back-alley deals, there’s a flicker of light worth fighting for. Sure, the night’s long and the future’s a fogged-up window, but you dig deep enough, and you might just find that stubborn little flame of determination. It doesn’t burn bright, but it doesn’t die easily either. And you’ll need it—whether you like it or not.

It sounds like some rookie’s dream, I know. I had that dream once. I’ve lost it. Yes, I’m still breathing, but I don’t know how. Maybe it’s just sheer guts that keep me stumbling forward. Wouldn't recommend following this beat-up path, but if you’re smart, you’ll remember one thing: it ain’t the light that kills you — it’s the darkness that tries to swallow it whole.

You got one shot at this life, so guard it like the last bullet in your chamber. Trust me, sometimes the hardest fights bring out the toughest warriors.

Keep your head high, and don't let the darkness win.

Life’s a dirty racket, and it’ll knock you around without a second thought. But if it’s got you down, you know where to find me. My door’s always open — day or night. Walk in, drop your load, and I’ll slide you a glass of cheap whiskey to wash the taste of the world out of your mouth. This world is a cruel beast, and we’re all just trying to survive. Sometimes, all you need is someone to listen. I’m your guy — no questions asked, no charge.