Soliloquy #3

To dwell in the present has unleashed a torrent of my haunting past, eclipsing any semblance of a future.

The pursuit of hedonistic pleasures and transient joys has ensnared me in a desolate abyss.

"Go big or go home," they said, and I chose to go big, only to find myself utterly homeless.

Destitute, I cannot afford the shelter of a meager hotel room. Shame is my sole possession, a currency that buys nothing but despair and the weight of a noose around my neck.

Perhaps I will stumble upon a dilapidated alley to rest my weary head, if only for a fleeting night.

I am a morally ambiguous figure, surpassing even Loki, the trickster of Asgard.

My existence has been a relentless quest for validation and instant gratification, leaving me consumed by woeful emptiness.

Nihilism has beckoned me towards the precipice of self-annihilation.

Maybe in another life, I could have offered more, but even then, I yearn for non-existence.

The notion of living only once has driven me to this desolate juncture. I pray it holds true, for I wish not to endure this wretched existence again.

Listen, for this is the tale of a sorrowful, vindictive soul devoid of mercy.

Follow the darkened path; you may stumble upon my lifeless form. Perhaps you will see past my physical deformities and bestow upon me the mercy of a proper burial.

Or perhaps my misfortune is contagious, and you shall flee from the rotund vessel of lies that I am.

Mayhap you shall glean wisdom from the chronicles of my wretched existence.