The Root Of All Evil

Chapter 1 - A thought

What would you do if life didn't go as planned? Truly a dumb question to ask to anyone. Life fails you in many ways. So how are you supposed to plan for a failure?

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Fridays. Most people adore Fridays for the fact that it's the weekend right after it. I, simply am scared of it. You can't escape from anything while it's the weekend. It's just hours of never-ending anxiety till the point you feel so sick even death may be better than whatever this is.

Living with people that hold any sort of power against you is something that I hate. I wish a gruesome death upon them. I hope they'll feel the suffering I felt with them, the ongoing sickness I felt with them, the fear I felt with them.

Life is just the same thing every day. There's no "It will get better" or "life does improve with time", that's all crap that is told to keep us in this loop of suffering for longer. We aren't allowed to die, we can't be free, we can't live. How are we, as children, supposed to enjoy anything. It's a struggle just making it till we're 18 and aren't controlled by who we're living with. But the suffering doesn't just end just because we're 'free' of the cause. It stays with us. It becomes engraved into us. It will always be there, hidden away, killing us, like a parasite. Just waiting for the worst moment to affect us once more before returning back into our shadows.

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I wake up everyday with the same useless system. Alarms at five, six and six thirty-five am, the purpose of them? There's not much in all honestly, it gives me more sleep and rest time before getting ready for school. But you see, there's no help for a tiredness that never goes away, a tiredness that always sticks to you. So you might argue that my 'system' is indeed useless and has no meaning, though doesn't everything just mean nothing at its very core?

I never want to leave my bed. It's so warm and comforting compared to the outside. The only warmth I ever get in life is from this very bed, yet I always have to leave it, my nest, my home. I am an unorganised mess that struggles doing the most basic of things, outside my nest I am nothing, I have no skills, I have no interests, I am but an empty shell with emotions programmed into my skin. I am not happy yet I experience joy, I am not sad yet I feel an emptiness in me. I don't feel empathy nor sorrow for others, yet I still live.