That sour tast of... you know... defeat!

So...

Then...

Well...

But...

It took quite some years and some months and finally it landed: I've lost.

You know, one of those losses were you can't say: "well, but at least we played well", or "the refs were totally biased!". No... I had all of the opportunities to play well, to talk with the referee (even if, as usual, the referee wasn't interested... happens a lot to me...), to change the game... but I didn't play well. And for once... sadly, I didn't even played fairly. I know, I know... I always prided myself for my fairness. I wasn't fair. My own standards of fairness were not followed by myself. Shame on me. Deserved the defeat and shut the fuck up, because you are an idiot.

So... I lost. I lost and it hurts a lot and it will not go away. Not because never again I will win, or that nothing else matters, because that's not true. Things that matters are all around and sometimes are found in strange places. And maybe I found some just recently (and of course lost it already... well, I'm a champ, but who knows?).

Then, anyway, I lost. Fuck me and myself, I lost and I can't blame anybody else. That hurts a lot, but truth is I don't mind the defeat and the pain, it's what has been lost the reason of the hurting.

Well... I think I will have to figure out how to fake that I have actually won, no? That's the important thing to do... that's for sure the important thing to do.

But at least I've... no... I've got nothing to say "but at least" for... not this time...

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