Are you happy, Mr. Superman?

Crush, Mix, Burn, Repeat.

Man

As you may have noticed, I am still very much alive.

Ryan never did show, neither has he done so since. That’s what you get when you rely upon a deceased friend though, I guess. I sat upon the handrail, drinking and smoking until the bottle ran dry and the last embers of my final cigarette faded into the darkness. I have never felt so alone in all my 21 years. Tears fell from my cheeks and were lost in the rain, before striking the river below, hidden by torrential downpour. I held in my hand a noose that I had tied in one end of a tough tow rope, the other end was lashed to a lamppost a few feet away. I looked down at what might have been the last image to register in my mind and I felt sick to my stomach. I cannot say whether this was the booze or just simply the thought, but luckily it was enough to save my seemingly worthless life. I awoke the following morning in the woods a short distance away. My clothes were drenched and filthy, my skull was throbbing with pain akin to that caused by a sharpened axe, the oh so familiar bland, dry texture was clinging to my tongue and there was a a burning sensation that began in the back of my throat and sank down into the very core of me. I coughed and spluttered in the harsh winter air as I threw up what poisons might have remained within me from the night before.

I felt like death… rather fitting really.

As I gathered myself up from the dirt I could think of only one thing; The pure hatred and fierce loathing that I feel for someone so obviously weak and depraved as myself.

I was utterly ashamed.

That evening, I collected a few personal belongings from my parents’ house and submitted myself into a local rehabilitation clinic. I have spent my days here ever since. Sadly it is not as strict as I had anticipated and they insist upon individuals taking part in group activities. The worst thing about this place is the patients; I cannot stand them. It is insulting that they think of me as an equal, but that is exactly what I have become. I have allowed myself to fall lower than the gutter, to sink into this sewer of human filth.

I will leave this place and I shall never return. An individual’s soft and delicate hands have taught me that I do not belong here. I must be free of this prison and be free of the foul beast that occupies my bones.

Ryan has gone but I am not alone.

  1. septem-luna reblogged this from mrsuperman90 and added:
    don’t believe those places are conducive
  2. mrsuperman90 posted this