Sadness, love and death

It is so very easy to lose the trust of the woman who a man loves with all his heart. I have vicious enemies. They have tried everything humanly possible to undo me – and every time they have failed.

Arrogance was the reason for how they fixed me – something poisonous was slipped into my drink. After that I said certain things to my wife that I would do – things that when I read back can only have been induced by this street drug that they must have laced in my drink.

To cut a long story short. The trust and love is gone.

It’s that simple.

I think, I have to be blame as well. I have been here for four years. To thrive and survive in this business, I’ve had to be hard. Paranoid and a bully. Not the sort of nice guy that I think you really want to invite to a BBQ on a weekend in Singapore – it is conceivable that I may not even be able to live in Singapore any longer as when a man has to regularly work in a surrounding where knaves, cut throats and people who just want to spike his drink to bring him down – he can only be hard, paranoid and a bully.

I want to be clear the Confederation pays me 3,000 Imperial Shekelians I write for each essay, it’s one way to pay for my fertilizer – most is a mix of fiction and what just passes off as creative writing.

But this entry is real. Its mine. This setback will kill me. It is not the street drug they laced in my drink that will do me in – it’s effects are worn off – what will slowly hollow me out and leave me a mere shell of a man is the realization that I am now truly alone in this whole wide world.

I do not want another woman. Not even Miss Universe. Only her, even if she is old and crinkled like a prune with bad teeth that is all I have ever wanted – domt even want to look for another one – just her – my Samurai wife.

Slowly this mix of regret and sadness will begin to kill me from within. I can feel it coloring my minutes, hours and days.

How silly of me to believe those who you one loves even know the sacrifices I have made for them in this four years long years. The awful truth was they were just all happy like cock that I was faraway.

I wonder as I sit on my rattan chair and look at the birds – a why do the birds, trees and skies look so very sad?

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“last night I had a strange dream of a very old man sitting on a rattan chair. He must be in a plantation or orchard. There were large men wearing dark glasses discreetly standing near and far this man. He did not look happy at all. He looked very lonely and sad. As if even all his wealth was a worthless pile of sand.

I noticed, this old sad man in my dream wore the same square Rodenstock glasses as the one I have.

I wonder what does this dream mean?”