I want to fucking kill myself. Am I going to actually do it? Fucking no.
I lost this final series. Fuck.
K10 (swws hat) vs A4 (me)
I raise under the gun. K10 calls me, this was the second time I have raised in a row. Flop K8x. I bet 13k (raise amount). He calls me. Turn 8, I bet 25k, he calls me. River 9. I bet 75k. calls. That hand cost me the whole fucking tournament, cocksucker.
Short stacked. 77 early position, I go allin, AQ calls, AK ships for a little more. Flop a fucking Ace, then a Q on river if that wasn’t even enough. There goes my poker career.
2019 was supposed to be my year. Guess it’s my year to eat shit.
What do I do now? I think, for one month, I’m going to grind this substitute racket. Take any fucking job I can get, this is to punish me for playing bad poker. When I’m not substituting, I will play the bullshit local poker room tournaments. And after that, study for the fucking csets. Motherfucker. We’ll see what happens this month.
Nobody has ever fucking believed in me. My dad, I was playing the best poker in my life, then he comes down and tells me that I should do business in china. Fucking manic depressant, nothing to live for, uphill battle for most of my life, and I finally am able to support myself. But that way wasn’t acceptable, not only did I need to survive, I needed a respectable profession. I fucking lost everything after that, what’s the fucking point.
When I was a boy, I was ready to take the world by storm. This is what my mom fucking told me, “You can’t change the world.” What the fuck is that to say to a little fucking boy? Even if it is true, you fucking lie to that motherfucker and support him. How crushed were my spirits. I will never forget that even if I tried.
When we first met, my whore wife, I told her I wanted to be a director. She told me, “that is never going to happen.” My first idea in my mind was to leave her, because the only requirement I have, the fucking only one, is that she believes in me. Nothing fucking else matters. I decided to give her a chance, I’m definitely regretting that decision now. I turn $200 into 9k, and all she can say is how I lost 50k in las vegas. Then she asks me, “How long are you going to do this poker thing?” I snap said, “fuck you.” She wants me to drive long distances so she can shop and eat. It makes me tired. She don’t give a fuck. Not one fuck is given. Then she comes back home and yells at me in front of my parents. She told me to, “shut up” in front of my parents. I was so fucking angry. I felt like taking my hand and banging her head on the table until she was dead. She makes me so fucking angry. A wife is supposed to support you and keep you from murdering other motherfuckers. Not make you crazy and bring the worst out of you.
I’m not in a good place right now. We want to have children, valentine’s day is coming up, I’m under a lot of stress.
I think I lost that tournament because of the bad karma yelps. Which were caused by me going to San Francisco and running into an asshole.
Currently, I have nothing, and it doesn’t look like anything is going to improve. Always uphill battle. Sometimes I get tired and just want to lay down and die. If I keep my mood stable, I can be an incredible poker player. If motherfuckers didn’t upset me and give me pressure.
My fucking wife is a huge burden to me and this family. Her and her bitch sister spend money and don’t fucking make any money. I fucking hate them.
I got to recharge my batteries. I got to be less of an asshole. I keep on breaking my new year’s resolution. I think I will be an asshole for life.
I need a new outlook on life, a new strategy at looking at life. I need a rebirth. Whatever I’m doing, is not fucking working. I lost that tournament because I am a piece of shit, not because of my playing ability.
Eat shit for a while, then rise up from the ashes again. I told myself I would never go broke again. I fucking broke that promise again. Fucking uphill battle man, always, life is never easy.