Time to wake up, is 7:30 AM and I have a cup of coffee on my hand, another damn day of work and I'm late yet again. Is always the same, the same suffocating routine. Work, work and work until I'm old and can finally die. That's not what I wanted. Like everyone else, I wanted to be different, I wanted to achieve multiple things, reach the unreachable, be someone important, not working for a boring office nine hours a day full of tedious paperwork. What I hate the most about my job is the annoying people that works with me, their bad jokes, my boss, who is an idiot, and so is his assistant. There is no one who is worth it.
From the first on the organigram to the last one everyone is a failure and an idiot, just like me. Maybe that's why I hate them, because despite being like me, they seem to be content, they seem happy to be living like this, but not me. No, this shouldn't be for me, I should be a great writer or painter, a recognized artists. I should be making millions doing something that I like, but I haven't written anything since middle school and I stopped drawing many years ago. Is unbelievable how, little by little, time erodes your dreams away, and by the time you realize you're just one more on the pack. Just one more lamb at the slaughterhouse, a piece of meat. So much wasted potential that will never be utilized or valued by anyone. That's why I always dreamed of having an entire city for myself, be the king of solitude, a place where nobody can bother me and I can do what I please. Unfortunately, my life is going on the complete opposite direction of my dreams, so many expectations, so many things that I wanted to do, yet I had to study something that I hate, because what I like is not profitable. Such is life.
I live by myself since I was 21, and I haven't seen my family ever since. I don't need them, what for? So that they can call me a failure in my face? They hate me just as much as I hate them, because I was never what they wanted me to be, and I never did what they wanted me to do. I don't need them, I don't need my father telling me how useless I am, no, I can tell just by looking at the mirror. I can also tell that I'm getting old, almost 30 and I don't even have a girlfriend. I barely have time to sleep because of my job and don't have any time to meet new people. I don't have a single friend in the world and I hate every single second of my life. Sometimes I ask myself, do I really have anything to live for? I can't deny that the idea of leaving this pathetic existence has caressed my mind a couple of times. Last night was the most recent one, I was sitting on the edge of the bed thinking about my life, I then grabbed the revolver from my drawer and put it on my head.
Meanwhile, in my mind, I was seeing my entire life on fragments, almost like watching an old movie. Failure after failure, not a single memory made me feel happy. From childhood to adolescence and to adulthood, I wasn't able to remember anything to be proud of. I was about to pull the trigger, but I didn't. I'm such a coward, I can't even do it. I drank as much vodka as I could and cried myself to sleep hoping that I will never wake up again...
From the first on the organigram to the last one everyone is a failure and an idiot, just like me. Maybe that's why I hate them, because despite being like me, they seem to be content, they seem happy to be living like this, but not me. No, this shouldn't be for me, I should be a great writer or painter, a recognized artists. I should be making millions doing something that I like, but I haven't written anything since middle school and I stopped drawing many years ago. Is unbelievable how, little by little, time erodes your dreams away, and by the time you realize you're just one more on the pack. Just one more lamb at the slaughterhouse, a piece of meat. So much wasted potential that will never be utilized or valued by anyone. That's why I always dreamed of having an entire city for myself, be the king of solitude, a place where nobody can bother me and I can do what I please. Unfortunately, my life is going on the complete opposite direction of my dreams, so many expectations, so many things that I wanted to do, yet I had to study something that I hate, because what I like is not profitable. Such is life.
I live by myself since I was 21, and I haven't seen my family ever since. I don't need them, what for? So that they can call me a failure in my face? They hate me just as much as I hate them, because I was never what they wanted me to be, and I never did what they wanted me to do. I don't need them, I don't need my father telling me how useless I am, no, I can tell just by looking at the mirror. I can also tell that I'm getting old, almost 30 and I don't even have a girlfriend. I barely have time to sleep because of my job and don't have any time to meet new people. I don't have a single friend in the world and I hate every single second of my life. Sometimes I ask myself, do I really have anything to live for? I can't deny that the idea of leaving this pathetic existence has caressed my mind a couple of times. Last night was the most recent one, I was sitting on the edge of the bed thinking about my life, I then grabbed the revolver from my drawer and put it on my head.
Meanwhile, in my mind, I was seeing my entire life on fragments, almost like watching an old movie. Failure after failure, not a single memory made me feel happy. From childhood to adolescence and to adulthood, I wasn't able to remember anything to be proud of. I was about to pull the trigger, but I didn't. I'm such a coward, I can't even do it. I drank as much vodka as I could and cried myself to sleep hoping that I will never wake up again...
