...shouldn't be mine.It sounds foreign and brutish,yet it's building up from my core and it's rising,rising,rising to a point which I don't want to see culminating.
This is supposed to be a happy day and I should be home right now,yet I'm spending my finite existence among strangers and doing things that are far from making me smile.
My heart swells bitterly and my palms clench into fists and it all just doesn't seem like living anymore.Have I become so powerless that I must resort to violence in order to make myself feel less...doomed?Damned?Desperate?
I'm too young to be wishing for oblivion.Craving happiness has turned into more of a curse than a blessing the moment I took my first step out of childhood.
I understand,we're constantly living among others and we have to adapt ourselves,but we're talking about our only shot here,people!Why must I mold myself to a pattern?Just because it renders me completely numb?I don't want the sort of inertia which makes bread go stale,though I'm not keen on starting a revolution either.I only want to be left alone in my crafted sanctuary,with balanced passions and a soothing routine.
Why do we insist on making the most simple of things into smothering burdens?
I'm angry and I don't have any answers and I want to eat cake.