Society had nothing to offer me, so I went inward. It was bliss for a while. I didn't need to hear the inane chatter of everyone anymore. I sneered whenever I saw or heard someone talk in a group. "Fools, wasting their time away with such idle chatter. Look at the reality of the world. You aren't happy. You're just ignorant." But then again, ignorance is bliss. I continued down that path, alone and scared. Fear wasn't something I was going to tolerate with myself anymore. I stood in front. I took the bullets. I faced everything that I could with my head held high. And that's what led to my downfall. All those insults and abuses, they dug into me like sword wounds. I hate humanity. I use the present tense because it's still the same. No one is sincere. Everyone wears these false masks, just to make themselves socially acceptable, while in reality, they're as ugly as can be. What's the difference between me and them? I'm supposed to be human as well, aren't I? The difference is that I don't have to pretend to wear those masks like everyone else. If I don't like something, you will know it from me. I would rather have the entire world as an enemy, than even a single dishonest friend.
I have trust issues. Sure, I tell people stuff at times, but there isn't anyone that I really trust. I don't think anyone can blame me for that. Friends, family, lovers, all of them betrayed my trust at some point in time. Id' be foolish if I were to put my trust in any more people. I shouldn't judge people who have met me based on the ones in the past. Fair point, but what would you do, in my position? I can't trust people, because it means making me vulnerable to others, when I could have the upper hand instead.
I had dreams as a kid, big dreams. Those dreams continued. But over time, I had learned that in some way or the other, the bigger the dreams that I had, the less of an impact that I made to myself. They weighed me down. No, I'm wrong. Society and what it wanted weighed me down. What it expected of me, finally broke me, and even though I was unwilling, I had to do it, because I wanted to. I somehow thought it would be better if I showed everyone that I could move forward in the same path that they deemed fit, faster than what they could achieve by themselves. And so, I chose to kill my dreams, because they were in the way of me getting the revenge that I sought.
I have regrets for doing that, yes. But I think, that in the end, I've come a step closer to a goal that I want more than anything else. Life is unfair to a lot of people, and a lot of them manage to stay positive through it all. I chose the darker side because that was what felt a lot more comfortable to me. Someone once told me something. People who stay in the darkness stay in it because the light seems to reveal all the ugly faces that we have to face. It's ignorance in it's own right, yes. But would you rather see the monsters that are about to rip you apart? Or would you have a veil of darkness protecting you from them not only from sight, but also from their harm? I think, even with my courage, I'd choose the latter. Dreams die, sometimes due to weak will, sometimes due to circumstance. Only very few times do people choose to kill them out of choice. I did that, and I think it's totally fine.
-Quintessential Essentials.
