There is no hope. There is no hope. There is no hope. Every day I wake up and turn on my phone hoping that someone contacted me. Who? A long lost friend? Lover? Someone I’ve never met? There is no one thinking about me in the middle of the night. And truth is, if there were I’d reject them outright. Same way I rejected my family and friends. There is no hope.
Open social media to upvote a post from some revolutionary candidate. This time he’s going to save the world. This time. This time there is no hope. Walk outside, suit and tie, sunny day, freezing air, go to school, drive to work, life is great, so unfair. There is no hope.
Every day the hype is not enough to convince me I’m not dying inside. They spent all this time trying to make me believe that if I got the next big milestone it would make me happy, and I convinced myself a time or two, but the truth is, even if I find my one true love, I’ll hate her too. There is no hope.
Some called my anti-materialism a trope, but I’m not anti-materialist. That would just make me a hypocrite. I’m just anti-everything-and-everyone, which makes me more of a hypocrite. Screaming “I love myself” at the top of my lungs didn’t convince me of it. There is no hope.
I’m losing sight again. My goals are far away, and I’m not sure I want them anymore. I really just want someone to hold me in the night. Someone to love and make love to. That too is impossible because I hate her elusive idea. She doesn’t exist for me, and if she did, she wouldn’t put up with my bullshit. There is no hope.
Met this girl at a party. Her name was Jasmine. I’m guessing it’s spelled like that. She caught my eye. Introduced herself. Cute. I just wanted to be around her. I wanted to dance with her even though I hate dancing. I wanted to not be me for a second. But she was already dancing with someone else. Because she doesn’t exist for me. And there was a sweet girl. Talking to me. All night. And I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. By telling her. I’m not attracted to her. Because I’m shallow. And I hate myself.
Write what I think?
Curses. Curses. I wrap myself, I bathe myself in curses, curses that drip venomously through the wrinkles in my brain through my glands to every artery and organ and seep through my pores. Curses pouring from the mouths of the demons that deny me sleep and watch me from the shadows. I hear their mouths stretch open, and I give them what they want before I pray a shallow prayer. As I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep, but I might die before I wake, and if I do, my soul forsake. For I’m a filthy dirty wretch not worthy of your love. I learned that back in Sunday school, no grace comes from above. Forgive me for my blasphemy, forgive me for my shame. Forgive me for my life of sin made manifest through pain. Forgive me for every little thing I’ve ever done. Forgive me for breathing. Forgive me for being born.
Now I’m so edgy. Now that I’ve written all this. Now that it’s almost 2 AM. What do I really think? What on earth could I possibly want? I think I just want to go back in time and re-do high school. Well, actually, I’d stop my parents from getting divorced. No, that’s a horrible idea. I’d just prevent them from ever meeting in the first place. Nah, I’d prevent my grandparents on both sides from meeting. Just kidding, I’d erase Jamaica completely. Scratch the whole New World thing actually, the Natives can have it back. And screw the British too. And all of Europe. Just. Just erase humanity. Just completely reverse the evolution of animals and earth. Just volcanoes everywhere. You know what, not even those. Just unmake the entire earth. And the solar system. And the galaxy. And the universe. Just go back into the big bang or whatever, I don’t even care.
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