My Confession
There has to be a higher plane on which this tedium of uneventfulness fades into the recesses of nonexistence. I hold that as irrefutable fact, and refuse to allow anything to obscure my belief of that ideal. It would be unacceptable to think anything else. It's the only thought which makes this existence even mildly tolerable. I've tried, anyway. But as my boredom persists, and as my despondency increases in severity, my faith wanes and I become that much more apathetic. I don't mean to become indifferent, but with the rapid degeneration of human morality along with the decline of human decency, I've gradually come to loathe the people around me that behave moreso like beasts than citizens of a 'civilized' and 'decent' society.
The world has become a rotten and inhumane place. Corruption, greed, and malice surround us, envelope us, encompass us- asphyxiate us. I feel as though I'm the only one with even the slightest conscience, and would succumb to their barbaric and perverted ways if I allowed myself to indulge even once. Not that I had ever taken it into consideration. At least in a serious state of mind, though I can't deny that I've entertained the concept at a casual glance. For lack of sophisticated terminology. Although, I have to say, my English lexicon is rather impressive, and it's developing at an accelerated rate. Although, what doesn't for me?
If only my intellect were applicable by a means through which I could actually contribute to the betterment of the human race. However, throughout the past few years, I've slowly discovered that there's no practical method I could execute to achieve this goal. I have nothing to offer to any organizations dedicated to whatever method of redemption or improvement that they utilize. Even if I did, if examined realistically, the probability that I would instill a perpetuating impact that didn't dissipate rapidly is unlikely.
At heart, people like to think that they are essentially on the 'good' side of the spectrum that man has slowly fabricated throughout his existence. A spectrum, I might add, that is incredibly ambiguous and in fact utterly nonexistent. And if a god exists and this is an inherent concept he bestowed upon the first human beings, then we're just victims of that equivocal entity. Regardless, my initial statement stands- people often believe that they are primarily good, it's just human nature to think so. Yet when it comes to taking the discipilnary action necessary in order to preserve that notion, they're all quick to regress back to their deviant and repulsive ways.
I could give lectures, seminars, speeches and perhaps I could even write, and, yes, my message would be conveyed. The majority of the populace would be indifferent to my message, a small portion would despise me, and an even more minuscule percentile would devote themselves to this life-long process to become what I would qualify as a 'good person.' However, even up to ninety percent of these masses that are receptive to my message are just like a person on a New Year's resolution. They simply lie to themselves and listen to and tell themselves the things that they want to hear. For a very infintesmal amount of time, I'll have influenced their manner of thinking, and may even effectively alter their behavior. However, the likelihood that this will be a consistent effect is slim to none. Human thought is constantly influenced by their environment and the people with whom they share it. I'll spend the rest of my life spreading messages about redemption and self-improvement to the same people over and over again. And in old age, their progeny will hear my words and contemplate the meaning of my messages. And while they make a minimal effort to change, they'll slowly slip back into their repugnant mannerisms.
Naturally, I've come to despise them, even the few who show no signs of degeneration annoy me. I know that it's only a matter of time before they conform to the masses. They'll express individuality by rebelling and partaking in illegal substances or activities. They'll unveil their true nature, and then obscure themselves behind a mask, fooling people into believing that's the real them. The few innocents who expose their true selves to these beasts will be exploited and used to the heartless bastard's expediency until nothing remains but a hollowed husk. They may even become monsters themselves. And why not? Sheep to a herd, crows to a murder.
Even as I type, I do so with no forethought or even the slightest intention to convey an actual message. I suppose I just wanted a medium through which I could express just a select few of the abstract thoughts and ideas that have come to mind lately. Though, since nobody will be reading this, I suppose there's no reason to substantiate my intentions. To my dismay, but not surprise, I've come to find these concepts increasingly frequent; my sense of despair only deepens, the despair that I'm ultimately unable to change this world- or even enjoy it, for that matter- overwhelms me occasionally when I'm capable of enough feeling to explore the encompassing hopelessness. I've become a numb shell with a pragmatic and indifferent perspective. I pursue higher institutions and levels of learning with absolutely no fervor, and I lack the internal motivation to care. I strive for superiority and achieve it with ease. I have the aptitude and resources at my disposal necessary to acquire whatever I choose to strive for or achieve. My only real external incentive is the satisfaction my family experiences upon receiving the usual news that I've constantly exceeded expectations and standards- including my own.
I would commit suicide if I discovered enough reasons to consider it a favorable alternative to the life which I now exist within. Saying I'm 'living' is similar to saying that a prosthetic limb is every bit as efficient and sufficient to its recipient as the genuine one they lost. I suppose my family would mourn, which is probably the primary reason I abstain from doing so, in addition to that, I suppose there's some degree of cowardice within my mind. Ironically, it's that very unknown that frightens me that may release me. That isn't to say that I believe in an afterlife, moreover, I suppose I could experience some form of excitement during the process of dying. Even if it would be a negative one.
I guess I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I have nothing to live for, no intrinsic nor extrinsic value to keep me here. Merely sifting through a mundane repetition of the same routine. Day after day, the same news on permanent repeat, the events of my life constantly evolving and changing, yet with no variance to anything I've previously done. Just another goal to accomplish, another grade, another test. Meanwhile the world around me decomposes and liquifies. Perhaps there is no purpose which I'm meant to fulfill. Maybe that's the lot of man- our utter uselessness. Along with death, of course. Now here it is. A lengthy confession I've composed for no one but myself. My homework is completed. Dinner is almost finished, and I sit here now at my computer, disinterestedly punching keys at a snail's pace as if to prolong the longevity of the one thing with which I feel I can invest some confidance.
She's probably making the usual. Dad will arrive home without fail at the same time. Sayu will gush over whoever it is in her class she's smitten with. We'll eat in a general silence. My parents will flaunt my successes and my sister will compliment me. I'll gratefully accept the appraisals and return to my room, where I'll needlessly study until I tire. I'll go to sleep early as I always do, and wake early the next morning. Refreshed but apathetic.
This is the rest of my life. A repetition of tedious tasks which serve no purpose other than to get to the next set of tasks. More perfect scores. More ascension. But which plane am I ascending to, and what will I discover if I reach the summit?
This world is rotten.