BadDo you ever have a creeping bad feeling that something is not going to work out well? I do. It isn't reasonable and can't be reasoned with.
I cannot look forward to going to China because I have a feeling. I am afraid of going. I don't know why. I have never had any problem with travelling before. I have cheerfully landed in foreign cities with no idea where I was going, where I would stay, what I would eat. But I feel I will have a bad time in China.
I am having a bad time altogether. I hate everything I do. I hate poker, because I cannot win, and I fear I am not improving. I know that I am suffering terrible beats and that this is most of it but reason does not help when you are feeling bad. (Today, two hands apart, I had KK cracked in the worst way. In the first case, the other guy called my raise, called a bet on the flop, another on the turn and then showed TT when the river came T. In the second, a guy called my raise, bet and called my raise on the flop when it showed 953 or something similar, called a bet when I turned a K, and then we capped it with a river Q. I was sure I'd see QQ or KQ. No. This fucking idiot had JT. I had JJ in an NL tourney, pushed on a raggy flop, and saw the other guy call with AQ. Great, right? Miles ahead, easy money. No way. He rivers a Q. Some guy calls me all in with AA. He has T8. I am not making this up. Flop is AJ3. Turn K. If you don't know the river is a Q, you don't know poker. In limit, I have 66. The flop comes T96, two spades, so I have a set. Did some guy luck out with his flush draw? Yes, sir, he did. But not just that. Turn and river both came spades and one was a seven, so all three of my opponents sucked out on me.)
I hate newsgroups. Everyone in them is so boring and stupid, I can't shine. It's important that the people you post with give something to you. Otherwise, you're just wasting the good stuff on plodding nonsense. Do I want to spend my days arguing with people who simply cannot accept they have it wrong about such tedious shit as whether the serial comma is good style in the US (which it clearly is) or whether America felt all gooey and charitable towards postwar Europe (it didn't; it basically raped it) or whether Raymond Haddad is a cunt (he is) or whether "hoi polloi" should have an article (it should) or whatever else. I don't mind butting heads over trivial shit. I like it. But I only like it when my fellow butter is giving it full value.
I hate my life. You'd hate it too if you had to live it. I do a boring job that I can't stand; I have a shitty marriage that I can't leave; I have a headache that never seems to go away and I have had diarrhoea for two years. The latter I consider to be of spiritual origin. Some of the small comforts that were making it bearable are diminished: S freaked out on me and is a footnote, my friend C scarpered to Melbourne with his horrible girlfriend, my iPod is damaged and I can't afford a new one or to fix this one, some other people in my life want more, ever more, when I have less, ever less, to give, I can't stand going to football on my own any more, it's just too depressing hearing people have friends to talk about it with, and being on the bus home on your own makes you feel as sad as you look (I realise this is why I haven't written, and won't write, a match review for the Glory game: I'll just be miserable that no one wants to read it, not even me). I am just scraping my living at the moment and I have to work extra hours to make enough to do the extra things.
Sometimes having a family is just a burden to carry, and there's no joy in it. I have times when I just don't want to see them, hear them, be with them. I'm sure it's mutual, and I'm sure it's something that happens to us all. I know others have much worse to deal with.
Sometimes you look in the mirror and think, how the fuck did I get here? I have stopped asking how I get out. I know I don't. I am not equipped, I have no liferaft and I am going to have to drown.
I know. Snap out of it. But you know what the problem is? I already know what you're thinking. I think it myself. So where are you left when you can't think about it?