Though I Speak with the Tongues of Men and Angels...

Things seem to get even worse as days go by. I don't even know how they will decay, since all I achieve doesn't last long enough. There's something relentless in me that has been going on since several months ago, wreaking havoc in everything that happens. Whatever I do doesn't make any sense to me. I can't enjoy it anymore. I see it as the most usual triviality that leaves but tastelessness. It only falls into the void and never comes back. Nothing makes me happy when I really should be so, that's what sucks.

Every achievement in these two months would make someone else feel quite fine: I graduated, got good grades, got the highest results in the Österreichisches Sprach Diplom test... But it doesn't mean anything to me. I feel it doesn't help solve something. I got a ranking that many others would've killed for, and I didn't even care. I can do it quite good in an unfriendly language. Everyone there was shooting photos, holding their diplomas quite proudly... And I used mine to fan myself. My friends, and even my teachers, were happier for my results than I was--I had to pretend certain joy not to let them down, though. I didn't even care. I have not been doing quite fine since long ago. Even though I lost certain will, the kind of illusion that kept me up long before, I never let this run deep in the outcome, which was, despite my mood, quite outstanding. I found no reason to think it worthwhile. It seems that success will be but a bitter pill as long as I don't find someone to share it with.

I am not done. It's just this persistent disappointment.