I have lost it. I am trapped in this bubble of mine, where the world passes by, like a picture. I bang on my noiseless walls, suffocating in the depth of my own thoughts. I am caught, forever. I might dream and dream of getting out, of touching the wet soil, of feeling the rain drop on my cheek, but no, I shall not have it. This bubble that I built for myself shall be my doom. A perfect case of plastic for my frozen soul.
I do not like things beautiful. I do not like things wise. I hate women, I hate men more. The whole world and its smiles seems hypocritical to me. I fail to see that I am the biggest hypocrite of all. I smile where I do not want to, I cry to show off that I am sensitive. Tomorrow, when ‘being sensitive’ is no longer fashionable, I shall go back to my devil-may-care attitude. I will then laugh at the wounded, mock the weak.
I buy my smiles by the dozen, from the shopkeeper round the corner. He gives me smiles. I shall start buying my tears too, for nothing affects me. Good, bad, happiness, sorrow- they all look the same to me. I am stuck in my bubble, forever.
Music fails to move me; literature weaves no magical spell over me. I no longer look up to heroes. I no longer want to strive for a better life. The bubble, which I built, and wanted to keep beautiful, reeks of the old, of rubbish. All the trash that I have collected over the years. I cannot get out. Maybe I do not want to. I am stubborn. I refuse to listen. I am going deaf and blind with each passing day.
Deaf to nice words and blind to reality, I do not appreciate help. I crave loneliness and want to be shunned by the others. I want to see people’s hatred for me. I want them to kick me, to call me names. Hypocrisy should not be encouraged.
I want others to push me away, to be absolutely repelled by the sight of me. For that is what I give others. I want to die after being flogged mercilessly. Isn’t that the best punishment for someone who refuses to see beauty? Isn’t that the answer for all the hatred and coldness I distribute? I am cowardly, hypocritical and unfeeling.
I am ashamed to face others. I am not nice like them. I am not conscientious, nor helpful. I shirk my responsibilities. I want to bury my face in the sand like the ostrich. Only my action is not as utilitarian. My life does not aim for anything beautiful, or useful. I am pathetic. A hollow existence in a useless body. Rotten from within, and without.
I am stuck in my bubble, forever. Let me suffer.