Where it went wrong

I can’t wait for this shitshow to end. But I keep wondering, before falling asleep, where did it go wrong? My mom tells me that most of my childhood I was happy and all, and yet now, that I am 19, I don’t remember what happiness feels like. This thought… the thought of wasting time keeps bothering me. What’s the fucking point of living if you are sad?
Bo-hoo to all the sad people in the world I just want to say: stay fucking sad and be happy about it. Sounds confusing, no? Yeah, I was a little confused myself for a while, but you see, that happiness you see in fucking commercials, ads, Instagram or whatever shit you are fed every five minutes… That happiness doesn’t fucking exist. It just doesn’t. So I say: go fuck yourself, cry out all the tears you have, drain out all your blood or whatever and accept this shitty misery we are living.
I think I am going to kill myself pretty soon. It’s not hard to kill. I killed my father for what? a thousand times? I never killed my mother though, no, I am not a monster. But fuck dads, am I right? Haha. Instead of a good morning I kill my teacher who can’t leave me fucking alone when I put my head on the table and try to get through her boring ass lesson. I killed that classmate, the one with ugly horse teeth, the one who laughed when I fell. Asshole. Sure, I have done enough killing. In my head, of course, but what’s the fucking difference? If someone knew the ugly bastard that lives in that little stupid head of mine, they would be scared. I mean, they should be scared. But no one sees me in that way, no. I have mastered the art of lies, I learned how to smile with bloody mouth. So, me, being a blood thirsty wolf, how hard could it be to kill the person I admire the most - myslef?
But… there is a but. As always. I don’t want to die being a virgin. Can you believe that? This is me, bravest and wisest man you will ever meet, the man willing to take his life in to his own hands. Yes, I want to remember something when the rope will be caressing my tiny throat. They say sex is one of life’s joy. Well fuck me, please, I don’t see how happiness could exist in this fucking vacuum of constant moral downgradation, but pleasures? sure, I-I mean absolutely, it is only the pleasures of a human that are truly real and everlasting.
I tried drugs in the past. Wasn’t so great. But fucking a girl while she moans and shouts your name in the way only a girl can shout? Yes-fucking-please, give me some of that love of yours, babygirl. And you know what’s even better? Remember everything I said about me killing people in my mind and being the peace of shit that I am, yeah? Well I am going to put a fucking mask of happiness, the same fucking mask you see everyday and go out in the wild to meet some people who are so so afraid of loosing that sense of safeness and warmth. Difference between me and them is that I take of my mask and acknowledge my “negative” (that’s how others call it, I call it the truth) thoughts, and with them I acknowledge my power. The power of having my life in my own hands without being a slave of this disgusting guy that people call God, morals or whatever the fuck you believe in.
About that girl, yeah? Well, there are a couple of criterias. First of all, she has to be sad. I can’t fuck an illusion, can I? No, I don’t get hard by the lies of safety and happiness, like those arseholes who think their routine or whatever is rewarding. No, I must find another one. Another one who has her freedom in her hands. Like me. Someone, who sees the fucking truth.
So, I get into this party. I can’t really remember how I got here, but it is what, 3 a. m. or so, so everyone’s wasted and they are too numb to notice a newcomer. They drink, smoke, fuck, these are the people that I respect. They understand, that there is nothing more in this world other than pleasures.
I grab a shot of some drink, another one, then one more. My head starts spinning just a little bit, just enough for my eyes and ears to synchronise with the music that is playing somewhere around this house. I can’t really find the source, but a few seconds pass and I already forget what I was looking for. “Dude, you seem stressed, here’s something to help to get your nerves down. ” I take a puff from a joint and I no longer feel sad. But I don’t feel alive as well. Now I am just as numb as everyone else are. And yet the thoughts of fucking a sad girl kick in and wake up my friend below. I look around, all hazed, with the view being a lil’ late, and colors all getting more and more pleasant, like they want to hug me and smootch my hands, my tummy, my hair. I wake up in a middle of a conversation lying to some girl: “…that’s what I like, just staying cozy and warm, as if everything is alright. ” Fuck that, but at least it’s working. “You wanna get cozy tonight? ” “I hope my warmth is enough for an asnwer. ” I take her into my arms and kiss her on the lips. I wake up again on a bed, me on top, she’s lying on the back. Some dude is sleeping with his head on another girls lap, who probably drank too much. I start kissing my girl’s neck, getting lower and lower. She doesn’t see the blood trail that my lips make, instead of shouting in pain as my sharp teeth bite into her neck and rip it off, she says very softly, the way only girls can say: “Oh, you are so good. ” And here I am, fucking her. Wasn’t so hard. Now I don’t blackout anymore, I go through the process and finish it. I add some more kisses on top, just to make her feel special. So that her last moments of my illusion would be pleasant.
Now we are just lying together cuddled up and cozy. “I fantasized about ripping your face off and taking your heart out, then drinking a shot and wasing it down with your warm blood. ” She doesn’t seem scared. I knew I picked the right one. She tells me: “I cut off all your limbs right as you walked through that door, not knowing anyone, thinking you could just sneak in. ” “Haha fuck you. ”  I say and we cuddle up just a tad closer. I come up with this revoliutionary idea: “You know, let’s kill ourselves. There’s absolutely nothing in this world left to live for anymore, what’s the point of wasting time… wasting time just to reflect before the weak death and to tell yourself once again: I am not fucking happy, they fucking lied to me. ” “Hmm, double suicide, that’s tempting. ” “Yeah, right here, right now. ” “Do you want get all these guys in trouble? ” “Fuck them. ” “Alright, let’s do it. ”

I know I am messed up. I just wish I would know where it went wrong.