I smile and feel sick inside
I laugh and can't hear myself
My scar covered body drifts aimlessly
I wonder... what it means... to be me?
The laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it, and the customary smirk spread over my lips. Why did I smile at others pain? Maybe because I'd found so much buried inside my own heart and seeing them with the ability to cry made me envious... but they could never know that. All I can do is walk away, turn from what others sought to comfort and follow my own path.
Their troubles weren't any of my business. I have my own life to lead.
I stopped when a person appeared in front of me. I saw her eyes lit on fire at my cruelty and my expression remained emotionless towards her.
"Get out of my way."
Though she didn't, and I tried to go past her but she moved as well. This wasn't any of her business; didn't she understand that? My life was my life, and it didn't concern anyone else. I was who I had been made into. I was what I had become. I was a machine...
I get up in the morning, I brush my teeth, I take a shower, I get dressed, and then I wake up my little brother and makes sure he gets some breakfast. I ride with him to his school, watch him get out, and then I go to work. I do my job as best I can, tuning out the rest of the world, stepping on people, staring through them. They aren't real people; they're all just pointless drones. They're lives are pointless, meaningless; they're lives are exactly like mine.
So what right does this girl have to interrupt the pattern? I merely encountered her friend as I continued my never-ending circle. It was no concern of mine if he got in my way and had to be pushed aside like a useless piece of paper, an out of date program.
That's the way this world works. He used to be my rival, but now he is nothing more than a useless pawn to dirty this Earth with his steps, just as I do every day.
"Move." I don't put any emotion in my voice because no reason presents itself for me to give her that privilege. She has no right to who I am... She has no idea what I'm thinking or what I do everyday. Though it doesn't matter... I'm another mindless drone, but at least I know it. Everyone else still seems under the illusion that there's some "purpose" to all of this. The only purpose human beings have on this Earth is to prey on others, reproduce, and die. The first and last I have no choice but to follow, though the middle one I'll avoid for the rest of my life, thank you very much.
Shoving her aside I walk away from them. Her friend is crying, and I remember what that used to feel like. I remember what it used to be like to think that I would find love someday, that I would raise my own children and I would never treat them like I was treated. Pain has a way of eating away at one's heart after a while, though, because now if I ever did have a child to raise... I know I'd do the exact same thing to him. I would make them exactly like me, an emotionless, heartless, callous machine.
This is the only way to live; this is who I am.
Right now I have to put the schedule back where it belongs. The second portion of my mornings has been stolen from me and I have to get him back. I love him, despite all my efforts. There still is some part inside of me that seems insistent upon clinging to love and trust. I'll find it someday and crush it, but for now I have no choice but to merely try and mask it with indifference.
I hear my own footsteps against the black tar, and I know that it won't be easy to find my brother. He's been taken from me before and I'm starting to think it might be part of my routine. At least it makes things a little more interesting, a little less meaningless, though why I still try to find a point to life is beyond me.
We're born; we live; we die.
The End
I laugh and can't hear myself
My scar covered body drifts aimlessly
I wonder... what it means... to be me?
The laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it, and the customary smirk spread over my lips. Why did I smile at others pain? Maybe because I'd found so much buried inside my own heart and seeing them with the ability to cry made me envious... but they could never know that. All I can do is walk away, turn from what others sought to comfort and follow my own path.
Their troubles weren't any of my business. I have my own life to lead.
I stopped when a person appeared in front of me. I saw her eyes lit on fire at my cruelty and my expression remained emotionless towards her.
"Get out of my way."
Though she didn't, and I tried to go past her but she moved as well. This wasn't any of her business; didn't she understand that? My life was my life, and it didn't concern anyone else. I was who I had been made into. I was what I had become. I was a machine...
I get up in the morning, I brush my teeth, I take a shower, I get dressed, and then I wake up my little brother and makes sure he gets some breakfast. I ride with him to his school, watch him get out, and then I go to work. I do my job as best I can, tuning out the rest of the world, stepping on people, staring through them. They aren't real people; they're all just pointless drones. They're lives are pointless, meaningless; they're lives are exactly like mine.
So what right does this girl have to interrupt the pattern? I merely encountered her friend as I continued my never-ending circle. It was no concern of mine if he got in my way and had to be pushed aside like a useless piece of paper, an out of date program.
That's the way this world works. He used to be my rival, but now he is nothing more than a useless pawn to dirty this Earth with his steps, just as I do every day.
"Move." I don't put any emotion in my voice because no reason presents itself for me to give her that privilege. She has no right to who I am... She has no idea what I'm thinking or what I do everyday. Though it doesn't matter... I'm another mindless drone, but at least I know it. Everyone else still seems under the illusion that there's some "purpose" to all of this. The only purpose human beings have on this Earth is to prey on others, reproduce, and die. The first and last I have no choice but to follow, though the middle one I'll avoid for the rest of my life, thank you very much.
Shoving her aside I walk away from them. Her friend is crying, and I remember what that used to feel like. I remember what it used to be like to think that I would find love someday, that I would raise my own children and I would never treat them like I was treated. Pain has a way of eating away at one's heart after a while, though, because now if I ever did have a child to raise... I know I'd do the exact same thing to him. I would make them exactly like me, an emotionless, heartless, callous machine.
This is the only way to live; this is who I am.
Right now I have to put the schedule back where it belongs. The second portion of my mornings has been stolen from me and I have to get him back. I love him, despite all my efforts. There still is some part inside of me that seems insistent upon clinging to love and trust. I'll find it someday and crush it, but for now I have no choice but to merely try and mask it with indifference.
I hear my own footsteps against the black tar, and I know that it won't be easy to find my brother. He's been taken from me before and I'm starting to think it might be part of my routine. At least it makes things a little more interesting, a little less meaningless, though why I still try to find a point to life is beyond me.
We're born; we live; we die.
The End