Back to the start line - Minsung

2.1 Everyone deserves a second chance

A sigh leaves his lips for the nth time. It carries distress and exhaution with it. The stress may be obvious as well as daily, however, the exhaustion runs deep in him, rooted in the bottom of his soul.

Right now, he just needs sleep. He needs to close his eyes and get rest, even if it's just a little bit, for a couple of hours, before the sun's rising again.

It set a long, long time ago.

The bright computer screen is mocking him. The screen looks blindingly bright even though the brightness is as its lowest. Jisung's eyes are dry, stinging, and he feels the pounding migraine behind them.

He was supposed to do some calculations of finance, paying a few bills away and counting their savings. Or more like his savings.

His mom couldn't care less. She has a job, a relatively well paying office job, however, she spends every penny on everything but basic necessities.

She fools around a lot; runs in bars and pubs and meets new guys. Alcohol has always been her everything, from a liberating reward after a long day at work to crazy partying and bonding with her younger self.

One would think she is out of her mind. Jisung's one of them.

Other would think an idenpendent woman has her freedom to do whatever and not give a flying fuck.

Jisung thinks she should give a fuck. Jisung is seventeen, for fuck's sake. Moreover, he's acting more like a responsible adult than his own mother sometimes.

He works a part time job in a grocery store nearby, having shifts at nights, at weekends and literally almost whenever he has a chance to take an extra shift.

Time isn't limitless for him. He still has school kicking his ass and the future lurking around every corner. He has to do decent, constantly cross his limits. He can't just sit back and watch the world moving. No. He has to move with it or else he's left behind in a blink of an eye.

Trying his best isn't enough for someone like him.

It's tiring, exhausting, but it's not like he has a choice or ever had one.

Perhaps, when he turns eighteen, he could run away. Perhaps, he could take Minho with him.

Nah, he would either get home sick and feel sorry for his mom. Yes, he still loves her. Or he would eventually realize he isn't as capable, strong and free as he imagined. He would just get disappointed.

Dreaming makes him sick, so he focuses on his task at hand.

He needs something concrete in order to be able fantasise about those surrealistic visions of future some other time.

The numbers and the excel sheets before him are not making any sense, the blood pulsating behind his eyes growing unbearable.

He smashes the laptop shut and sighs deeply. He buries his hands in his hair.

He is physically unable to deal with these things right now.

He doesn't remember the times when he used to be an innocent, nonchalant child without any pressure or distress. He grew up relatively quickly, matured quickly and began to understood things quickly.

He isn't even of full age yet he feels like the sky is falling down on him.

He wishes he knew what to do. He wishes he knew how to manage better, how to be capable and strong.

With blank mind and tired body, he falls asleep at the kitchen table, in the midst of hours of an early tuesday morning.

~~~

I wish to be out and free of this system, this rotting society, this spinning planet. This place and these people aren't for me.

Someone calls it an existential crisis. Someone calls it severe depression. Someone calls it teen angst.

Whatever it is, it's eating my insides alive. I haven't been feeling like a functioning human being in forever.

My story is rather unhappy, based on bad luck. Not that I pity myself in a narcissistic way but if I was asked, I would say enough shit has been dumbed on me, so no thanks for more. I'm still capable of feeling empathy and compassion. I know no kid deserves such a childhood that I had.

It's not like anyone can choose their parents though. The place you're supposed to call home, the period of time you'll see and the norms you'll learn to follow are all a coincidence.

I didn't ask to be here, yet here I am.

I have always seen myself as kind of a normal kid; obedient, quiet, not like an intelligent genius but not like a hopeless loser either. I have always been that way, being an introvert and reserved in the presence of people.

I wasn't a rebel, testing the waters as well as teachers' patience. I wasn't a part of that popular gang full of hot-headed, cheeky bullies. However, I wasn't their target either.

I have always been kind of a side character, just existing without meaning anything to anyone.

Easy to erase, replace and forget.

I have always been respectful and thoughtful as well. At times, a little too thoughtful, I might say. My overthinking brain and the absurd scenarios are storming sometimes.

I think I have earned my place in society. I don't think I deserve it though.

And when exactly did the downhill start? I'm unsure.

The only thing I recall starting was my self destructiveness at the age of 13. The scars aren't pleasant to look at, to feel, but I can't escape them. They are there and they remain there, on his skin, in a form of ugly lines.

A part of him hates them, is disgusted by them. A part of him doesn't care; it is what it is. A part of him accepts them, painfully but without a fuss.

He isn't proud of them. He isn't proud of himself or his story.

The next thing I want to know- need to know, is what to do next. What to do in the future. Is there a future and if yes, is it for me? Am I meant to be a part of it? Am I meant to fit in it?

I guess it's just another thing more for me to make my own research. No one is here telling ne what to do. I have myself and myself only.

It'd be so much easier to have the crystal clear instructions ready for use, containing even the smallest and negligible details as well. Life doesn't work that way. You have to figure it out yourself and try. Sometimes you succeed, sometimes you fail.

I've failed more than succeeded.

It doesn't help me move forward.

~~~

There is always time to get back on track,
tearing down the walls slowly every step,

now I see myself building up a world of
bridges.

You will find a way to begin again,
no more time to waste or to play pretend,

now I see myself building up a world of
bridges.