The Creation of Carefully Calculated Love
I'm tired of life.
I'm so sick of not accomplishing anything.
I ponder upon life's meaning daily.
I hate being underestimated because of my age, my outlook on life, or my actions.
Despite starting off with a depressing start, I am actually not a wrist-slitting, bad poetry-writing, black –wearing, suicide-thinking, man.
Or boy, whichever you chose to think of me as.
I should have begun with my name first—my name is Kainan Kim. I am an aging 25 year old who is practically treading nowhere in life—and it doesn't help that my many of my friends are much more successful than I am. I have not dated since the last Ricky Martin concert.
Kidding, but you get my exaggeration.
My parents nag me about getting a girlfriend on a daily (if not weekly) basis. Their subtopics include "What about those online dating sites," or "Did our ancestors practice arranged marriages?" or even "Kill me now; the fact that I won't live to be a grandparents saddens me too much."
Damn it to hell with what they want, I'll give them grandkids when I feel like it.
Wasn't I a good enough child for them? I never disrespected them…or at least in their face. I went to college and got a degree—I'm just working my way up on the cooperate ladder, glacially. I grew up as a decent guy with morals and the ability to treat people with a respectable way.
Why am I so undesirable?
I know, I know. I'm just jumping back and forth about the bad things in life right now. Let's be optimistic for a second. Let's start listing the things that are good in my life…
I'm an independent man who is living solitary in his apartment right now. Yeah, that's a good start. There's no one to boss me around with what I do, no one to criticize me in front of my face, no—
Gun shots could be heard nearby.
"You were eyin' that hoe today, weren't chu!"
A toddler's cry pierces the air.
Drunk singing crept into the apartment.
Oh…right. I forgot to tell you how…fun my apartment could be.
The apartment to the left of mine consists of an elderly couple who love television but have to crank up the volume to suit their hearing. The apartment to the right of mine lives another couple who fights on a daily basis—verbally and physically. Above me is a chubby toddler who enjoys jumping up and down. Below me is a lonely man who simply cannot live without singing karaoke and watching porn at obnoxious levels.
What's funny is that all these annoyances creep out at the same time at night.
Fuck my life.
A/N: I'm alive, and my writing skills are rusty.
It's my first time writing in a guy's point-of-view, but I hope I've done somewhat well. Thank you to the readers who do review.
The summary was given to me by Vicky. It shows what will happen in the story next, and is brilliant. Thank you.