maybedeadcat
It wasn't the last straw. It never was.
As she drew the shortest straw, a sigh of relief passed through the group. She stared into her hand, determined to accomplish what others gave up so easily. It was a chance to prover herself.
Brief is for only a few seconds, but once you apply it to the scope of life, everything is so brief. It's short and tugs at your heart as you embrace the black hole of depression as life passes you by without a moment's notice. No. You don't want it to end. Yet, you've been waiting all year. It won't be the same again. Nothing will be the same. And you thank your past self for reveling in the moment while she can.
"To think! Bill Gates has the same amount of times as we do, and look at where he is! I don't want to switch places with anyone else. I want to be myself. I'm not narcissistic or anything, I would miss myself if I was someone else. I can't imagine life as anyone else but me."
That racket! He clenched his teeth, absorbing the anger filling his bones. He wanted to cry out in pain, in frustration-surely life was out to get him! He stormed out the door, raised his head towards the ceiling, ready to yell at whoever was creating that noise.
Little did he know it was the last thing he would do.
Her own little nest to tend to. Each day was the same, a plan of mercilessly tending to her children and cleaning the little messes they made. Once they left home, well, her own nest was her little project. Mindless working each and every day with the same things in the same place each time.
It was no wonder that one day she would go crazy and the police would find her house in shambles, the once glistening trophy of a housewife's ego.
A small chat, she said. It wasn't going to be some small chat. Chairs will be thrown and blood will be said. Scratched faces and pulled hair shouted out to the rest of the office.
I smiled calmly and followed her.
"You know what really grinds my gears?"
"What?"
"Hypocrites. I don't care what they do, they just, don't they know what they're saying?"
"Stuff slips. They don't seem to mind. If they truly believe it at the moment, then I guess they're alright."
A treaty is to serve both parties. Yet, in the end, I end up with the least to receive. All I do is nod. I don't have feelings. That's preposterous! Another human being with emotions? I can't get hurt? All I do is hurt others in the end. I might as well serve in the process of serving.
It's simple. Just empty them out. It's not worth anything thinking about. Just do it.
Hush those loud, monstrous thoughts. You don't need them. Stop racking your head. It will all be silent soon. Just push those thoughts away. Enter utopia.