Happiness is in our Tears

I

You wake up on a Monday morning feeling like cat piss, it hurts because you know that even cat piss is way better than how you feel. You spend a substantial amount of time trying to imagine if you ever experienced any good thing or if you were born to be a tragedy and how you don't see anything stopping you from dying as one.

You look out through your rusty window, you discover the sun is bright, the hot sun burns and even leaves a mark on your face, and you wish you could experience just an eon of that brightness in your life. As you continue in your unusual almost perfect trance, you realize that the intensity of the sun keeps increasing, it dawns on you that the day is dawn and that without immeasurable doubt you are running late for school.

You hurry out of bed, hence dashing your feet against old cans which you have no idea how they made way into your impeccable room. You sigh and let out superfluous curse words, which eases your pain and makes you feel like piss this time and not necessarily cat piss. You get into the bath tub, just to realize your heater has suddenly gone bad. It was pretty hot when you woke up but right now it feels like it has been snowing all night. You know you are staring death in the face, you have to take that scary cold bath you spent your whole life avoiding. You struggle through the cold bath, only to struggle out to see that the power is gone. At this moment, you begin to imagine if the devil is your neighbor and what you have done to him to deserve so much evil for the day that is yet to begin.