Eat the rich
So like...if we just take the 44 billion that was just used to buy twitter and maybe feed the poor, or make housing for the homeless until they can get back up on their feet, or do literally anything with it to help people instead of what is actually being done, I think we can at least begin to get somewhere, no? Same for that one guy who spent billions going to space. Yes, I know who they are and I'm sure anyone reading this knows too, but I will not name them. We should stop calling these assholes by their names. They don't deserve both money and clout. This answer is messy, not too overly thought out, and generally all over the place, so forgive me, but I mean come on. They have billions. They can literally solve so many problems because we all collectively put such a high value on money. Unfortunately, we also collectively put a low value on human life. Or any life, really. Things won't change anytime soon. The assholes are too powerful. Sad.
~I've been having violent dreams recently. Whether it's me watching a grown man rip apart a child's face, watching a live streamer saw his head in half vertically, exposing his brain, tongue, and eyes for some stupid popular challenge, or beating and trying to drown a child with my own hands because the people that the child belonged to were trying to hunt me. I don't wake up scared, but I do feel disturbed.
~I'm severely depressed and because of this, I don't leave my room, eat, or socialize with anyone (including my family). I feel like a piece of shit for it. My sister had just given birth a few days ago and I didn't congratulate her, check up on her, help with any chores around the house, or even go to meet the baby for almost a week and I LIVE with them. I feel horrible and guilty, but I can't force myself to even leave my bed to feed myself. I haven't told anyone in my family. I just let them hate me and talk shit about me, which doesn't help with the depression, but I'm incapable of asking for help. Either way, it doesn't matter. I've been given a couple months to pack up my things and find somewhere else to live.
~I don't want to die. I don't hurt myself and I don't plan on killing myself, but I'm tired of everything. I don't want to work or go to school or even exist. I know no one is going to save or help me, but I hate the fact that I can't even save myself. I don't even know where to begin to try.
~I have no idea where I want to live. No clue if I should move to a different state or not as I had just moved 3,000 miles with my family from the west coast to the east and now I have to leave again. I don't have money or friends to room with so I'm trying to find a cheap enough place to go with decent weather, but damn it's fucking hard.
~I quit college and I hate my job. But I can't find another job that pays as high as the one I have for no education or much experience. However, the job is not good for my mental health at all.
~I'm scared while also numb. How long will this last? How long will I last? Fuck it.
My own personal TV
I never just see darkness when I close my eyes. When I close my eyes, sometimes I just see static. Other times, I see eyes looking back at me. Hands reaching for my eyeballs. Or hair wrapping itself around as if I had just been caught by the grudge or the little girl from the ring. I've had this little defect since I was a child. I remember when I was 5 that - along with seeing static, eyes, hands, or hair - I also would see flowers and nice patterns. Theses little visions were nicer to me when I was younger. Now I deal with monsters, demons, and eyes watching me whenever I'm in the dark. Even when my eyes are closed. I never just see darkness.
I want. To snap.
How appropriate that this challenge be covered in twos. That number has been following me for years now. I first noticed when I lived in apartment number 22. When I was 22 years old. And I constantly wore my favorite sweater - which was stitched with the number 22. I have been seeing either 22 or 222 almost every day since 2020. And what a coincidence that this challenge is overflowing with 2s. $222.22, with a minimum of 222 entrants, ending on 2/22/22, and I'm seeing this challenge and participating on 2/2/22.
I just came back from a walk. Took me 2 hours. On the way I've been crying because I was just kicked out and given 2 months to find somewhere else to live. Not because I don't pay rent - I do. Not because I'm rude and disrespectful - I'm not. Not because I drink or do drugs - I don't. Not because I throw parties or always have people over - I don't. But because I like to be alone and never leave my room. I don't eat, or socialize, and don't clean as often as my family would like me to. It hurts their feelings so I'm being kicked out. On my walk, I asked for the universe's favorite way to fuck with me and send me a sign with the number 2 if I should just embrace the parts of me I've been keeping locked up. I passed by many mailboxes and house addresses with the number 22, but I decided those don't count. Then - moments after I decide this - I look up (which is rare for me to do on a walk) and glance at a pole. The pole had the number 90222 written on it.
That's it. That's my sign. I have no money, no friends, and no place to go. My family had just told me to leave and I have no desire to do anything with my life because nothing is fun or worth my time. Because I'm severely depressed and want to do nothing. I have no passions and no motivation. Because no matter how much I "grind," the rich will always be rich and I will always struggle with things as simple as trying to keep a roof over my head and food in my stomach. I'm done caring about the world and its rules. The rules made for the rich, the straight, the males, the whites. I'm done caring. They don't care about me, so why should I care about them? They can break the rules all they want and get away with it, so why can't I? What's the point of having rules if the worst ones out there are getting away with everything?
I just want to snap. Embrace my crazy and dangerous side. The parts of me my deadbeat dad passed onto me. I can stop trying to ignore my schizophrenia and pretending to be normal, stop holding back my anger and allowing others to walk all over me, and finally I can allow myself to do whatever I want at any moment based on my random impulses whether it's something as small as watching a movie at 2 am or trying to become a pirate and setting sail for months. I don't want to be a hero or a villain. I'm done trying to be a "bad bitch" or "that bitch." I don't want to be a king, queen, prince, or princess. It's all so fucking boring. I just want freedom. Pure, absolute freedom. I want to live a fun, rule-free life (within reason of course, not saying I want to go around murdering everyone, but you can be damn sure I'll break a motherfuckers jaw with a hammer if they want to mess with me). I'm tired of being a bystander in my own life. Of being too afraid to stand up for someone else because maybe I'll be hurt instead or maybe - God forbid - people won't LIKE me and think I'm a bitch. Fuck everything. Just let me snap and stop caring about the consequences like death or where to live or not having money or if I'll eat that day or if I'll end up in jail or if I'll be judged. Fuck worrying about retirement or even making it to old age. Just fuck everything and let me live. Damn. Tired of it all.
Boring, boring, boring.
Each day, I wake up in the afternoon. I don't do mornings. I'm always a grumpy mess if I ever have to wake up early. I go to work in the late afternoon to night anyways, so I'm allowed to sleep in. Either way, I don't go to sleep until 4 am, so technically I'm still only sleeping 8 hours. Every day is the same as the one before - give or take minor changes like whether I wear a red shirt or a black one.
I wake up, use the bathroom, put on a small amount of make up to hide my bags and define my eyebrows, then I change for work and leave. I never eat. I'm always late. But that's routine. When I get home, I shower and then waste time on the internet until 3 or 4 am, which is when I play some classical music to help me fall asleep. I have night lights because I get sleep paralysis a lot. The lights help. I'm always tired, always hungry, and always sad. I get through each day unhappily, but I never change anything because I have no motivation to do so.
On my days off, I sleep much, much longer than 8 hours. I lock myself in my room, maybe eat a snack or two throughout the day, avoid interactions with my family - which will only be about how lazy or unhelpful I am, and I plan my escape. The day I can finally run away and be someone else. Maybe even be someone who's happy.
And to think, only six months ago I lived thousands miles away from where I am now and worked part time at a better job with better pay. I went out with friends. Had fun. And even then, I was still unhappy. My life took a 180 degree turn and I am still unhappy. But also grateful for many things. Or at least I try to be.
One day, I'll be by myself. Finally. And I'll be happy. I know it. And if I'm not? Fuck it. I only live once, I can deal with one lifetime of unhappiness. I've been doing it all my life so far, how bad can a few more decades be?
I know this isn't exactly a walkthrough of ONE day in my life, but it's an outline of how just about any day of my life is like. Go ahead. Pick a day. November 1st? Work. Read above. July 4th? Work. Read above. August 23rd? Idk, maybe it was one of my days off where I just slept and wasted the day away on the internet, looking for places to disappear to on a low budget. You can pick and choose any day and guess what I've done. Basically....read above.
Ha. Ha. Ha.
Persecuted for their beliefs in the United States? You mean the land where the first amendment states that we all have freedom of religion, but you can't be gay or trans because the Christain God says it's evil and not their inclusive, all-loving idk wiccan god or goddess, for example? A land where you must bear children no matter what and can't have abortions in some areas because God says it's murder? A land where you swear on the Bible in court? In court!! A place that upholds the laws, including freedom of religion, tells you to swear on a Bible! Maybe not as much anymore, but the option certainly still is there, especially in states that are not as progressive. Christianity is literally taking over the laws in some areas (in particular more conservative areas) and they feel like theyre being persecuted? Someone please give these people an island to live on where they can live and judge all they want against other like-minded asswipes.
I'm sorry, but just because those who follow a different religion or no religion are saying "hey, that's enough stop pushing your beliefs on me" does not mean christians are being persecuted. They're just a bunch of whiny babies who play victim when things don't go their way, even though their way hurts thouands and even millions. What does God have to say about that? Gosh they're so annoying, just a bunch of jokes. I'm over them. All they want is to feel powerful. That's literally it. Fuck 'em. Not literally of course...don't let them reproduce.
Also, I know not EVERY Christian is like this, but the majority of them are, especially those evangelists. If you're anything close to it literally do not talk to me, I have nothing to say to you and nothing learn/hear from you.
Also, also, sorry if it's hard to read or follow along, I didn't feel like going back to edit so good luck lol.
Only death will tell
Ahh, the grand question: is there an afterlife? Some argue no, others yes, few say maybe or I don’t know, but ultimately who cares? It literally doesn’t matter. You’re here now. Nowhere else. Worry about what will come when it comes.
Do I believe in an afterlife? 75% yes and 25% unsure. I literally do not know enough to have an argument. How can one argue something when they don’t know and have no concrete proof of something? I do believe in Heaven, but I also believe that we just have eternal souls that might reincarnate or go to other universes once we die here. But there’s still that 25% of me that thinks maybe we do just die and that’s it. Our conciousness fades and that is that.
Overall, I know what I 100% believe in and that is: Who cares if there’s an afterlife or not? What we all know for sure is that we’re alive and living right now. We know there’s life, but don’t know if there’s an afterlife. So why not just live our lives and worry about the future or the afterlife when the time comes for that? What will worrying about the afterlife right now do for any of us? Literally not one thing. Some might argue “well if you’re bad then the afterlife matters cause you’ll go to hell.” Well if you believe in hell, why are you even thinking about being bad? Are you saying if there was no hell you’d be a horrible person? The afterlife has nothing to do with whether someone is good or bad. That’s all based on the person and their morals. Live your life the way you want - prefferably without hurting others - and i’m sure you’ll be just fine. Maybe even more so since you’ll have actually lived your life without fear and will be at peace to finally die.
That’s just might take on it. I hope it didn’t sound defensive or aggressive or whatnot.
My first post
This is apparently my first post from about 2 years ago. It's mostly the same, just some minor changes here and there. There wasn't any inspiration for this. It just popped into my head and I wrote it out. Here it is:
The baby stared at me, making my insides churn. This was no normal baby - whatever passes for normal these days - no, this baby had large eyes that it stared at you with. 'Aww, cute!' One might think, but they'd be wrong. It was creepy with its fully green eyes and yellow irises. The size of those eyes were larger than any humans' eyes that I've ever seen. Actually everything about the baby was huge, with the exception of tiny sharp teeth. It had layers of glistening greasy fat stomach rolls covered in blood that melted into one another, its mouth where all that blood on the stomach spilled out from was as big as a human head, and its appetite was the biggest thing of all.
It did not speak, but it communicated. ‘Feed.’ That was the word that was constantly popping up in my mind. The baby would plant that word there. If I did not feed it, it would not cry, but wail. Horrifying sounds coming from that horrifying mouth. And so, I fed it. Dogs, cats, whatever pleased its ginormous appetite.
One day, it communicated more words than ever before: ‘Feed me a baby. I want a baby.’ Panicked and petrified I shook my head. No, this is where I drew the line. No more. The wails came but I ignored them. Then began the screams. I’ve never heard them before as I always gave into the demands before too long. Its face twisted and contorted into a nightmare and I was at my breaking point.
“Please stop!!” I begged.
But it only grew louder. I screamed along with it, holding my ears and wanting to rip out my hair. Out of nowhere, almost as if the world ceased to spin and sound no longer existed, we both stopped. I waited for something to happen, anything at all, but nothing did. There was still silence. Was the baby gone? Have I defeated it by not giving into its demands? Did it go somewhere else? I was scared to look up from the floor.
‘Feed me a baby.’ Came the words into my mind again. My heart and stomach dropped. It was still here, staring at me. I didn't move. 'FEED ME A BABY!" It screamed into my mind. With tears in my eyes, I complied.
A random answer
To all who’re looking for one: Try it and see.
And one question: Did I cheat?
Everywhere is Lonely. And then You Die.
I stared up at the moon from where I stood. All alone in the middle of the empty, inclined street. The lights from each of the houses were off and no cars were driving down the hilled road. It was dark out and the sky had more stars than I have ever imagined, but I focused only on the moon. Maybe what Robert had told me was really true. That if I stood on the edge of my bed, looked up, and wished with all my heart, the moon would take me away from my world. From my worries. My troubles and fears. I wasn't standing on the edge of my bed, but I hoped it would work anyways.
'Please.' I wished inside my head, hoping the moon would hear my plea. The first and final wish I would ever ask of it. 'Please.' I begged harder. 'Just take me away from here.' I closed my eyes and wished stronger, but nothing happened. I continued to stand there, tilted slightly sideways on that hill, all alone. Maybe it had to be a full moon for it to work. Or even a new moon? Tears slid down my face and I begged again, imagining myself being swept away from this spot so suddenly and flying towards the moon, leaving everything - and everyone - behind. But it didn't work.
"Of course it wouldn't work." I said to myself in a low, thick voice that was a result from the accumulated saliva from my crying. I still didn't want to give up. I kept looking at the sky, willing everything around me away.
"What are you doing?" I heard a voice say behind me. I turned my head to the left where the voice was coming from. Jackson. One of the people I was trying to wish away, was walking down the hill towards me.
"I'm trying to go to the moon." I said aggressively. I didn't know why I told him the truth. He stood beside me and looked up. "It would be awfully lonely up there, don't you think?"
"I don't care. That's what i want." We stood in silence for a bit, both slightly inclined and looking up.
"Well, there's no gravity or oxygen up there, you'll probably end up dying in the first minute."
"I don't mind." More silence.
"There are no friends up there." He tried again. I looked down at him, very seriously. "There are none down here either."
He took in a breath of the warm summer night air and continued to stare up at the sky. We stood there like that for a while, until I finally decided that I would try to make my wish again later and continued my way down the hill towards the beach. The cursed beach where it all began. I walked into the sand in my sneakers and jeans, throwing sand up everywhere every time I took a step. Jackson stayed on the hill, or maybe he went home. I didn't know, much less care. All that mattered was that he left me alone.
I stomped all the way to the shoreline and sat down a few feet away from the waves, took off my bag and pulled out my laptop, one of the things I've managed to save from the others when they jumped me and broke all my shit. Friends my ass. If I can't wish myself away from this cruel world, I'll fix it.