Sleeping Child.

i was informed by my mother that the funeral at the void deck was for a 13-month old baby who passed away because of health complications.


13 months old.



thirteen.

months.

old.



the kid never got a chance to grow up, make friends, play with them, see the wonders of nature, attend school, experience the tumultuous teenage years, get attached, get married, have kids and watch them grow up and do the same, or grow old.


the kid skipped all that and went from being born, to being ill and dying.
straight from ashes to ashes and dust to dust with barely anything inbetween.





and then i look at the people who constantly bitch and whinge about how nobody understood them, how they have no friends, how difficult their life was and that sometimes they just wished they could end it all.

i look at the people who eat food and yet complain that the food's not good enough, that their house wasn't good enough for them, that they wished they didn't have to attend school or do assignments, that their results just weren't good enough.

i look at the people who complain about relationship issues and how they would constantly go in and out of them, lamenting their plight and how either gender was the worst thing on earth and how they would wish they could find the perfect one who would accede to all their wishes without imposing anything on them.




i look at the people who complain about life.






i spit on these people.

yes, i am aware i'm probably one of them.





bloody ingrates.




whatever happened to being contented?
whatever happened to "hey, things could have been worse, but they aren't! this is awesome!"

sometimes people get so caught up in their own conceited lives that they forget about the good things that happened and instead question why other good things didn't happen.

they get unhappy.

they get discontented.

they start to complain.



summed up for the intellectually challenged or the numbskulls that still haven't gotten the gist of this post:

shit happens.
when good things happen, lesser shit happens.
but it still happens.
instead of being thankful for lesser shit happening, one starts asking why even lesser shit doesn't happen.

this is where people need to get punched real hard in the face by reality.



once again i am made painfully aware of my hypocritical nature.








rest in peace, kid.
i never knew your name and have never seen your face.
maybe i'll catch up with you once i get up there.


if i get up there.

R.I.P
Jane Doe
Dec 2008 - Jan 2010
Gone too soon.