Closetdweller
He Who Must Not Be Harassed Before Coffee
Lately, I've felt so faithless, so exhausted...I try to be cheerful only to be told to be quiet, my happiness is always at the wrong time. I can't even enjoy writing anymore because of how depressed I've been. I can't concentrate in class, my assignments are always too early or too late. My chores are stupidly easy, yet I always mess up at them because of my pathetic memory capacity.
I began calling myself retarded because of how stupid this world makes me feel. My Mom begs me to stop calling myself that and that I'm "an intelligent boy". Yet, this same person doesn't seem to care that I try, only the fact that I failed matters. I can have a month-long streak of good behavior like back in August, but one bad day can bring it all down.
...
In fact, I'm starting to believe that School is literally designed to make you feel inferior, each student graded like hunks of meat...Each mistake counts against me and every correct answer is a temporary little victory.
Suicidal thoughts are now common visitors to my thought process, despite of how hard I try to cram them into the rear of my mind. Bad memories, mistakes, and fuckups stand out like stone monoliths in the deserts of my mind.
During the day, I plaster on a fake smile for the appeasement of my peers. I also get a sick feeling whenever I do an assignment as if I had something much more important to do.
I have even gotten to the point where I question reality, my place in it, and what's in it for me. I start to notice cycles, I start to see how easy it is to compare my life to clockwork.
I wake up in the morning, my dad wakes me up at around the same time every day. At school, a bell screams at me from behind at predictable intervals, the assignments are easy yet so hard. I occasionally stop in the middle of the hallways and look around me, thinking how I'm only a fleeting glimpse in the lives of so many others, the same case for them too. The river of students flow around me like a strong current, each of them going somewhere in this rat maze. The lunch bell rings, nothing new, I journey through the mental labor camp- I mean school, to the cafeteria to get some low-quality meal that is totally free of preservatives, artificial flavors, and colors.
I stare down at the pathetic and depressing cheeseburger I was given, it was no wonder to me why many other students got fast food instead. I'm no fan of fast food, but I'd take it over the slop I'm given here.
The bell rings once again, we are once again walking into the same little rooms as before, I swear this place has the Feng Shui of a prison block. Posters on the walls desperately try to make education fun or appealing using bright colors, goofy fonts, and creepy cartoon characters with strained, fake, painted-on smiles.
I would get bored of the assignments and start free-writing, but the Chromebook I use is under the complete control of another. They remotely close my tab and block the website and send a message telling me to get back on task. In fact, it seems that the cycle I'm in gets upset whenever I truly enjoy something. I start to treat the cycle of my life as an entity in and of itself, something that enjoys driving me insane with a monotonous cacophony of nihilism...Anyways, I would feel absolutely brain-dead by the end of the day. I would go to bed after another afternoon of relentless criticism.
One night, I pondered the idea of the cycle being an entity... A looming presence that oppresses, observes and manipulates. I don't know if I have an overactive imagination or not, but I could feel something in the corner of my room...staring me down.
Perhaps I'm too intelligent and inquisitive for my own good, always questioning things and picking things apart to their most deep level, even if it means deeply examining the very dynamics of my life. Perhaps I'm not retarded, maybe I'm too smart for somethings, maybe that's why I get distracted so easily, I just get...bored.
I began calling myself retarded because of how stupid this world makes me feel. My Mom begs me to stop calling myself that and that I'm "an intelligent boy". Yet, this same person doesn't seem to care that I try, only the fact that I failed matters. I can have a month-long streak of good behavior like back in August, but one bad day can bring it all down.
...
In fact, I'm starting to believe that School is literally designed to make you feel inferior, each student graded like hunks of meat...Each mistake counts against me and every correct answer is a temporary little victory.
Suicidal thoughts are now common visitors to my thought process, despite of how hard I try to cram them into the rear of my mind. Bad memories, mistakes, and fuckups stand out like stone monoliths in the deserts of my mind.
During the day, I plaster on a fake smile for the appeasement of my peers. I also get a sick feeling whenever I do an assignment as if I had something much more important to do.
I have even gotten to the point where I question reality, my place in it, and what's in it for me. I start to notice cycles, I start to see how easy it is to compare my life to clockwork.
I wake up in the morning, my dad wakes me up at around the same time every day. At school, a bell screams at me from behind at predictable intervals, the assignments are easy yet so hard. I occasionally stop in the middle of the hallways and look around me, thinking how I'm only a fleeting glimpse in the lives of so many others, the same case for them too. The river of students flow around me like a strong current, each of them going somewhere in this rat maze. The lunch bell rings, nothing new, I journey through the mental labor camp- I mean school, to the cafeteria to get some low-quality meal that is totally free of preservatives, artificial flavors, and colors.
I stare down at the pathetic and depressing cheeseburger I was given, it was no wonder to me why many other students got fast food instead. I'm no fan of fast food, but I'd take it over the slop I'm given here.
The bell rings once again, we are once again walking into the same little rooms as before, I swear this place has the Feng Shui of a prison block. Posters on the walls desperately try to make education fun or appealing using bright colors, goofy fonts, and creepy cartoon characters with strained, fake, painted-on smiles.
I would get bored of the assignments and start free-writing, but the Chromebook I use is under the complete control of another. They remotely close my tab and block the website and send a message telling me to get back on task. In fact, it seems that the cycle I'm in gets upset whenever I truly enjoy something. I start to treat the cycle of my life as an entity in and of itself, something that enjoys driving me insane with a monotonous cacophony of nihilism...Anyways, I would feel absolutely brain-dead by the end of the day. I would go to bed after another afternoon of relentless criticism.
One night, I pondered the idea of the cycle being an entity... A looming presence that oppresses, observes and manipulates. I don't know if I have an overactive imagination or not, but I could feel something in the corner of my room...staring me down.
Perhaps I'm too intelligent and inquisitive for my own good, always questioning things and picking things apart to their most deep level, even if it means deeply examining the very dynamics of my life. Perhaps I'm not retarded, maybe I'm too smart for somethings, maybe that's why I get distracted so easily, I just get...bored.