Fan Fiction ❯ perhaps ❯ perhaps ( Chapter 1 )

This was how it was. She would plaster a smile on her face because that is what they wanted to see. She was happy to be around them but it wasn't their company that saddened her, made her loath her very existence. It was something she had trouble explaining. It was being lonely, though friends surround you. It was having a nearly carefree life, and still feeling as though you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It was hating everything, even your family when all they offered was love and comfort and care and not having one damn good reason to not like them. They say it's a chemical imbalance. That what's wrong is not really anyone's fault, merely a natural defect. Take a psychology class and they'll say the same thing. That, or your crazy. Perhaps I am crazy. I don't think I can say that I have ever truly hated anything, as far as I can remember, but I can't say that I have ever loved anything whole heartedly either. Perhaps it is simply a mindset, despair maybe? I suppose when one is on a never-ending emotional roller coaster one would tend to lean towards despair. I'm sure that everyone has, at one point or another, read some kind of love story. I can't stand to read most of them, though I rather wish I could live the life of one of those characters. You know the type. The one that has a generally perfect life, or undying optimism, then they fall in love. Love at first sight usually. It's depressing because those with a realistic point of view understand that such things will never happen. Fairytales are made for the people that are delusional. All those hopeless romantics, and eternally optimistic people, and those that keep blind faith… they do not wish to see the world as it is. I wonder, about my so-called `disease,' I try to think of what I would have become, and how my life would have been different without this defect. No more happy pills, no more unprovoked sadness, no more hate, no more darkness, and defeat. Does that not sound wonderful? Yeah *sigh* if only, if only. Perhaps I am a pessimist… perhaps a masochist. I tried. I really did try to hold in all my depression. Needless to say it did not last. For how long can a person suppress their pain? A year? A decade? Always? Alas, no. There is a quote that I cherish now, I don't know why, but perhaps to give me a reason to stay. "The courage we desire and prize is not the courage to die, but to live." Whoever said that was right, and I hate it. We are born, we live, we learn, we grow, we die. It is an unstoppable chain of events. Have you ever watched children about five or six years old? Never ending bundles of joy and energy. Watch them grow up if you get the chance. It is a sickening fact that when a child grows up they become impure. They are not the same, and sadly, they were never given the opportunity to decide if they wished to age or not. I've watched them each year. With each new year they lose a piece of their innocence, and the rate at which it is lost increases with each year. It is sad to think that they- that we- will control the world someday. Our elders shake their heads at the way we act and dress and speak and wonder what the world is coming to while we laugh and ignore them. Then those children follow our example, and so a child of eight will mimic the movements of their older sibling, who is perhaps twice their age, and they will act as they do though they are not yet old enough to understand what they are doing. This is what happened to me and my sibling, and most of my friends. It is a wonder we haven't all killed ourselves yet. Did you know that humanity is very similar to a virus? Lovely analogy isn't it? All we do is consume, destroy, and reproduce, then hit the repeat button. It's so sad. I'm rather ashamed to be human actually. All we do is kill everything. What happens when there is nothing left to eradicate? When there are no more plants, no more animals, when there is no more life? Just pray you are long since dead. I'll sit back and laugh at them, all of them. Yes, look at my mindset now, my cheery thoughts. Read this, actually read it and tell me what kind of person actually thinks of such things. Look at me now. You know I can't really tell you what happiness is anymore. I can no longer tell the difference between true feeling and those that are artificial now. They all feel the same. Pain and pleasure, love and hate, happiness and sadness, guilt and honesty. Perhaps this is how we were meant to view things. Nothing in life is fair after all; nothing is all sunshine and roses. There is no happily ever after. Not for those to come. Ah, but what if there was? That's what keeps us alive, right? What keeps all of us sane? Sanity is overrated. You know what the worst part is? I see all this, I see everything this way and yet I still cling to that possibility, that what if. Pathetic isn't it. But perhaps…