I tried.
They failed.
Miserably.
They couldn’t understand me.
Now, I’m going to make them.
This is me, ladies and gentleman.
Take it.
Or, leave it.
Most would leave.
I cried for hundreds of nights.
The tears flooded the mattress.
I was in pain.
I asked for help, but they turned the other way.
Am I diseased?
They think so.
You know, it’s a shame I didn’t figure this out earlier.
I spent too much time in agony as they tormented me.
Physical, psychological, emotional
Whatever the damage was, it left me scarred.
See?
I can show you if you’d like.
In fact, forget asking for your permission.
Here, this is it anyway.
It started as a boy.
I wasn’t normal like the other kids.
What is “normal”, anyway?
I hate conforming.
I was just a young kid running through the grass in his yard.
I kicked the ball around, too.
I often missed the goal.
But, at least I didn’t give up.
I have a large scar on my chest, but not many people know.
But, you don’t ask anyway, and I thank you for that.
It’s not your business, but I know you’re curious.
Everyone is.
It goes one of two ways when someone sees the scar.
Either the person politely asks what happened, or
It goes in the opposite direction.
You see, people nowadays don’t have much tact.
They are always blunt with whatever they ask.
“What’s that scar? It’s weird.”
I was born prematurely.
I don’t expect them to understand.
I managed to survive.
The kids these days are different.
I guess they lost focus on morals when they just **** in games.
That’s such blasphemy.
The world’s a lie.
I grew up different.
The kids in school would always stare at me like I was a freak.
Maybe I am.
I’m not sure what I am, or who I am, for that matter.
I grew up taking all the questions with a half-smile.
Oh, you should’ve seen me on the inside.
I was dying like an infant again.
I cringed a bit more, screamed a bit louder, and hated it all.
I used every curse word possible back then.
I plagued the innocence of the air with my filthy language.
It was just all that built up hate growing worse each day.
No other words could suffice to say I was sick of it.
I was sick of being interrogated.
I was sick of how the world has become a pathetic excuse for the spread of imagination.
I was sick of how technology controls us like robots.
Funny, isn’t it?
Not to me.
It’s disgusting how people **** like life can be recycled easily.
Well, I guess it can.
It’s horrible, really.
Every day is a rerun of the day before.
There’s always the same people, same scene, and it’s boring.
I always get the same headaches listening to repetition.
I want something new.
I want a breath of fresh air that isn’t contaminated.
I don’t want the dramatics of life and loss.
I want to be in a place where peace reigns free.
I want to break the shackles I’ve been bound in.
I want to know I’m doing something right.
I put it all out for you.
I trust you, so don’t be like them.
Please.