sariaru
I've been dismissed - easy as that. No matter that it's my last chance, no matter that I've bled and cried and suffered and sacrificed for this organization. You hesitate once, and that's it. Someone new comes in, replaces you, easy as that. I thought I would have been something special by now, but apparently not - not to him at least. I'm just a dot, just a number, just a hole.
There's something wrong with today's version of "liberty." I think the word used to mean the freedom to do as you wished, so long as you didn't bring harm to others. Now, I think it means something alon the lines of the ability for the government to do as they wish, so long as you don't know about it. Freedom's such a catch phrase these days, and the sad thing is, I sucuumb to that definition daily.
There's a quiet sort of sound in the background of my head. Not really the sense that impending doom is about to fall like balefire from the heavens, but a quiet sort of alarm. Something wrong, but I can quite place it yet. Off, somehow, the way you can look at a picture and know, on instinct, that something's... just not right.
I have a lab report due tomorrow. I've been doing them for years - but what do they really tell us? This science, when combined with this math in just the right way this many times, produces this result. But that's not how life works. Life is unexpected, fucked-up and the pinnacle of chaos theory. So, fuck reports - live.
I just checked the basement. Everyone else says it's really disturbing - but I sort of like the creepy aesthetic. There's something about the low-lit, concrete, open-pipe hallway that, while it seems like it could well be the set of a horror scene, is also appealing. Why, though? I don't know.
I think I solved it this time. Took me way too long, but that's okay. It isn't that I was doing anything wrong, it's not even that I wasn't doing enough right. And that makes me happier than anyone could know. The fact that's he's comfortable with me is all I could ever want - that's not true, but for the moment, it's a wonderful place to be.
We're only on the first edition of life. As of now, we continue to smother ourselves in war as best we possibly can, eradicating ourselves in the hopes of having more power, more wealth. In the end, it all goes with us. Death ends everything, so why does anyone bother doing something other than what they love?
Her breaths come in ragged and short. She's tried. She's tired - there's been too much of this recently. Why? We don't know.
And that's okay. Sometimes, it's okay to not know. it's okay to just blaze through life, not knowing what's ahead, or behind for that matter. Living in the moment makes every moment beautiful and worth it. Just for that moment.
There's nothing you can do but watch it crash. When you think everything is lined up just right, just perfect, something comes along and tears it all to shit. He likes doing that. And you know, sometimes what you thought was perfect was flawed and broken on the inside. Or, maybe, sometimes broken to shit is better anyways. Easier.
I'm supposed to write fiction. But, how do I do that when he's so real to me, so deep? I can't make things up. But he wants me to weave him into a world that isn't his. I don't know what to do but keep trying.
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