If the gods really existed, don't you think they would envy us?
This was the question I had while looking at the ceiling of my apartment. I woke up in a cluttered little room, my eyes still heavy with sleep. As I stretched out my arms, I felt the discomfort of sleeping on my cheap mattress. When I turned around, I saw piles of unwashed clothes scattered on the floor, empty food containers and soda cans on the desk, and a thick layer of dust covering every surface.
When I tried to get out of bed, I tripped over a pile of clothes, causing me to lose my balance and fall face-first to the floor.
Despite the pain, I just let out a pathetic moan and rubbed my head, feeling the omen and the weight of the day already bearing down on me.
The sun streamed in through the small bedroom window, illuminating the dust motes in the air, which only served to accentuate the mess around me.
When I made my way to the kitchen, I realized that it was in no better condition than my bedroom. The sink was full of dirty dishes, and the smell of rotting food emanated from the refrigerator.
Opening the fridge, I found nothing but a carton of expired milk, a few vegetables, and a packet of instant noodles. I grabbed the noodles with a sigh, realizing that this would be my breakfast, like every day.
As I sipped my breakfast, I thought about the brand of cigarettes I was going to smoke today. But without realizing it, tears began to fall down my face, involuntarily creating a very embarrassing and humiliating expression of melancholy and fear.
A feeling of hopelessness washed over me and I hugged the packet of noodles as if it were a creature of flesh and blood, and wept. I cried like I cried every day for the last four years of my life. It was all a constant cycle of waking up, going to class, coming home to this dirty, disorganized apartment, and sleeping. I had no friends, no hobbies, no passions. Some time ago I was forced to accept that this was all there was in my life. This was not a stage, because I did not have the desire or the strength to move forward. The only thing I was doing at this moment was existing under the orders of my brain system that refused to die. Because in soul and spirit, I was already dead. But for now, my brain was telling me that I had to brace myself for another day of monotony, knowing that nothing would change day by day.
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When I opened the door to my apartment, I was greeted by the sight of a gray and cloudy day. The sky was heavy with thick clouds and there was a cool air that filtered through my thin jacket. On my face, I could feel a light rain falling that was mixed with my tears, as if to keep them company. The streets and sidewalks were slippery and shiny, glistening in the rays of the coming storm.
Looking over the railing on my fourth floor I saw the usual hustle and bustle of the city. Cars honking, people running to work or school, and the occasional stray dog urinating on the sidewalk. The monotonous and dreary weather seemed to have dampened everyone's spirits as most of the people had their heads down and rushed by without a second glance.
I really didn't hate rainy days, because my emotions consumed too much mental energy to give me the privilege of hating something. But if I could say that it was not pleasant when a Saturday was overshadowed by rain.
Bracing my jacket over my thin shoulders from my poor diet, I headed down the stairs of the apartment complex and made my way to the parking spot.
For today I was scheduled to play a new game of my favorite videogame saga. But for that, I first had to go to the nearest electronics store, since at the moment there were no automated robots that would do the shopping for you.
However, it seemed that fate had different plans for my life.
As soon as I set foot on the sidewalk, I could see a small figure in a red dress, blue hose, and a yellow hat. When I saw her let go of her mother's hand to run after the balloon that had escaped from her hand, I instinctively looked in the direction from which the vehicles were coming. Only to find a soda truck and its driver asleep.
By the time I realized it, my legs were running. By the time my brain realized that after three years I was running, it remembered cramping my right leg excruciatingly and adding unpleasant weight to my weak knees. Still, something in me forbade me to stop. It seemed like someone was controlling my body and ignoring the pain, pushing me closer and closer to the kindergartner.
Suddenly, I was so close to her that my arm lifted itself to push the girl's back out of the way. However, when I push her away from me, I take her place. Closing my eyes, I only remember seeing the bright yellow light from the truck, then an unpleasant sound and thunder.
When I opened my eyes I saw the girl's mother next to me, she was holding my hand on her chest as the expression on her face told me that she was yelling something at me. But her concern was irrelevant, because when I looked towards my feet and saw the yellow tip of a hat, I knew my miserable existence had been for a purpose.
And just like that, my life came to an end.