Monday was terrible. Horrific. I spent the day sulking on my lonesome and went home ready to erupt. I could feel the slight tingle of tears threatening their way through my eyelids Ready to pour over the second they perched open But due to my lack of sleep last night I doubt I could even build up the strength to open my glossy eyes Even if I wanted to
In a weird sense I enjoyed the mere thought of Monday being able to make me cry I almost laughed Or screamed Or both
A year ago today Everyday was a Monday to me Everyday went horribly Everyday made me come home crying and lock myself in my room I was so used to that constant repetitive torture That Monday appeared to be no different than any other day Monday was just... It. Tuesday was "it" Wednesday was "it" Thursday was "it" Friday was "it" Even Saturday and Sunday were "it"
But now, today Monday is distinct In a horrifyingly gruesome way And this tear-jerking unsatisfying Monday gave me hope
Monday made me cry Tuesday did not Wednesday did not Thursday did not Friday did not Not even Saturday or Sunday made me cry Only Monday made me cry Only Monday
Just as Monday made 7 billion other humans cry On this torturous inescapable earth It also made me cry
And that gave me hope that maybe I really am normal Or I can be Or I will be
Because Monday is unbearable for everyone And Monday is unbearable for me And the rest of the week is alright for most people And it was alright for me And Saturday and Sunday are fun for most people And Saturday and Sunday were fun for me
Somewhere Deep inside my clouded, muddy mind I caught a glimpse of hope That maybe There is hope for me Maybe I am cured Maybe I can be Maybe I will be