My life had become one of living in constant darkness, of stumbling incessantly on obstacles that fate placed in my way, Like a hapless creature, of fumbling for help and of gasping for relief.

My early pursuit of happiness had dissolved into a sort of ghastly descent in hell.

It seemed to me that fate or, as it were, a higher power continuously and stubbornly thwarted my attempts to improve my state of affairs, ergo, find a job.

I was an invalid in spirit and the thought brought constant pain to my mind, like an open wound that would not heal.

I would have hidden under the thick quilt of my bed all day through if I could, sucking up the soothing warmth for sustenance and let slumber take me out of this world, into the land of dreams.

But a debilitating agony erupting in my head, as if I was torn asunder by the wrath of the gods, would inevitably wrench me back to harrowing wakefulness, a sort of nightmare in itself that wore the cloak of reality.

A powerful nausea made me want to retch helplessly and no pill or powder could bring me relief.

The tick, tick, tick of time echoed maddeningly in my mind, like the loud monotone ring of an alarum iron bell at the approaching of doom.

And I was like a soul in perdition, distressed, unmoored and aloof, while the world rushed ahead unperturbed.

hope had flown away and my mind was in disarray.