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I spent the entire night browsing this website. I didn’t stop. Hell, I didn’t even want to. I knew tomorrow would be nothing but a living hell, so there was no reason for me to stop.
I checked my notifications again. Nothing. No new alerts. I don’t have a life. When you don’t have a life, you cling to whatever distraction you can find. If you’re a complete failure like me, sometimes fiction and the internet are all you have.
After 12 hours of doom-scrolling, my head ached. The constant lack of sleep was catching up to me. This was bad. I needed to go to the bathroom.
For some reason, I didn’t think before going into the shower cubicle to take a piss. I might as well clean myself up in the process.
Then I started getting dizzy, I coudn't breath. Soon, I collapsed onto the shower floor. Drenched in my own fucking piss. My whole body was dirty, slimy, revolting. What had I just done to myself? Then I realized, I'm just like the piss that covered my body. I am the filth, the dirt that needed to be wiped away immediately. The scum that is unwanted, easily discarded, existing only to provoke disgust in others.
While gasping for air, I quickly slipped into a kind of REM state. The only thought in my head was, “Am I going to die?” Wasn't this what I had wanted all along? A final end to my pain and suffering? Fuck no, I was terrified. My instincts were trying to hold onto my physical body. It's like, even though my mind knows I’m a stain on a blank canvas that should be scraped off, my body still wants to survive. It wants to live. No, I want to live, because I'm still a living being. How pathetic is that?
My legs were shaking from the sudden loss of energy, trying to stand on their own. Damn, it fucking hurt. I fell face-first onto the stall floor again. Filthy. Foul. Scummy. That’s what I was. I was too out of it to grab the nearby soap holder and pull myself up, let alone finish the shower. It all felt so real, like I was about to die. God, just how much I want things to be different. I wish they were.
I went to bed in the early morning, knowing that someone as ugly and unwanted as me still wouldn’t end this miserable existence. I’m too much of a coward. I just keep living like a parasite, human scum. Death won’t be a quick, pleasant escape. My fate was sealed the moment I made the first cry into this world.
I checked my notifications again. Nothing. No new alerts. I don’t have a life. When you don’t have a life, you cling to whatever distraction you can find. If you’re a complete failure like me, sometimes fiction and the internet are all you have.
After 12 hours of doom-scrolling, my head ached. The constant lack of sleep was catching up to me. This was bad. I needed to go to the bathroom.
For some reason, I didn’t think before going into the shower cubicle to take a piss. I might as well clean myself up in the process.
Then I started getting dizzy, I coudn't breath. Soon, I collapsed onto the shower floor. Drenched in my own fucking piss. My whole body was dirty, slimy, revolting. What had I just done to myself? Then I realized, I'm just like the piss that covered my body. I am the filth, the dirt that needed to be wiped away immediately. The scum that is unwanted, easily discarded, existing only to provoke disgust in others.
While gasping for air, I quickly slipped into a kind of REM state. The only thought in my head was, “Am I going to die?” Wasn't this what I had wanted all along? A final end to my pain and suffering? Fuck no, I was terrified. My instincts were trying to hold onto my physical body. It's like, even though my mind knows I’m a stain on a blank canvas that should be scraped off, my body still wants to survive. It wants to live. No, I want to live, because I'm still a living being. How pathetic is that?
My legs were shaking from the sudden loss of energy, trying to stand on their own. Damn, it fucking hurt. I fell face-first onto the stall floor again. Filthy. Foul. Scummy. That’s what I was. I was too out of it to grab the nearby soap holder and pull myself up, let alone finish the shower. It all felt so real, like I was about to die. God, just how much I want things to be different. I wish they were.
I went to bed in the early morning, knowing that someone as ugly and unwanted as me still wouldn’t end this miserable existence. I’m too much of a coward. I just keep living like a parasite, human scum. Death won’t be a quick, pleasant escape. My fate was sealed the moment I made the first cry into this world.
