B
Yesterday I was heavily intoxicated, trying to drown out this pain, yet even in my drunken state, I couldn't escape the suffering, simply because I lack the means. At first, it felt easy – as if I immersed myself in a world of merriment and forgot about all life's woes, as if I transformed into an ordinary person. But then melancholic thoughts engulfed me, reminding me of my plainness and unremarkableness. I have nothing special, nothing that would make me unique. I'm just an ordinary gray person, and it saddens me to tears. Being part of the gray mass is like being a emaciated Indian, watching a billionaire hold you on a leash to observe how he enjoys his luxury. I have brown eyes, ordinary lightbrown skin, chestnut hair – nothing special. I'm doomed to remain unnoticed and insignificant, simply because luck wasn't on my side at birth. Someone was born into prosperity, but not me.
