Life

I'm here chanting on a sad Pariita on a blog. On the other tab, I was also reading about the study that correlates sadness with creativity, stating like people like Van Gogh and Aristotle created one of the best innovations in all mankind.
What I want to say is, I don't know, just sad, and hopefully this writing of mine with enormous grammar errors and contents made in frivolity, I was sad. Am sad.
The only thing that is keeping me alive and now for at least one year to come is hope, and my dream of becoming an architect. Though my own conviction towards it is running lower and lower as I grow older and older, while losing trust from more and more people, even my parents and families. I mean, what is there to live for. Wanting to make this world a better place is seeming so absurd nowadays. There are tons of great people out there, I believe is and have been doing that job for centuries. Looking at me here, disrupting peace, breaking hearts, stealing, and ripping apart my family. I sometimes wish I was never born Why should I have? I bet my parents would have been much happier without me seeping money out of them and showing me making fool out of myself.
I clearly don't belong in my family, and so far as I traveled and viewed the world further than my hometown, I knew I don't belong in all of Asia. As I traveled through countries, meeting new people, but the way I behaved around them was so alienated; now I doubt I even belong in this world.
The only thing that's keeping me alive is, really, this inner character I made, serving as a brother with advises. It is indeed funny, but is it funny.
I was born alone, and was meant to die alone, but unlike most normal people, I would have lived this life alone too, if not for myself.
I don't know why they bother. I am hopeless. I am naive and helpless, but hopeless. I'm stubborn; I know nothing, and I am nobody. "Grow Up!" is the only advice I received, but I never know how, or why.
Why am I born.
But knowing myself, I wouldn't have been despaired knowing it was the rudiment of nature I was assigned to that I had little or no chance to alter at all. What does it mean. It was not me. It was the world. I have seen more than them. I don't deserve all these rejections, especially when I have tried so hard and got so far, but in the end it doesn't really matter. If life was a game, this must be the schizophrenic level, with the easiest one allows me to change my family, nationality, race, and place of origin. Now, I can only change but one thing, my boy Fish.
For now this's been my resolute solitude salute flute.