I am seventeen years old.
I haven't done much yet for all the years I have existed here in this Earth.
But what is so scary, is the feeling of pressure.
The air around me is so dense. I can smell methane with every sharp breath I take.
The road I'm walking on is splatted with a crimson red and sometimes adorned by a murky blackness.
The buildings are corroding, faster than a mouse can escape a cat's claws. Heaps of debris lie everywhere.
My eyes are slowly being void of any glimmer of hope. They have become pools of apathy.
Why, why is this happening?!
What have I done to face a life so bleak?
Our family was tightly-knitted, I was acing my academics, I was enjoying school. I was loving music, I was laughing with my friends.
Then came "society".
I had to go over hurdles, just to get to what is called "happiness".
If I leave for a day off, I would have missed a year's worth of happenings.
Even if I do not want to, I am force-fed to want it, to like it.
I am always told to make my own choices, but the choices laid out on me just lead to the same, dull ending.
Everything around me is controlled.
Everything around me pressures me.
Yet all these pressures brought zero happiness to me.
Working day and night, trying to take over time, but still... Pressure did not make me do a lot of things worth living for.
Deep scars and memories of pain were the things, the horrible things that pressure left in my life.
To enjoy the little things of life is my aim.
Not to live in a pressure cooker.
I haven't done much yet for all the years I have existed here in this Earth.
But what is so scary, is the feeling of pressure.
Pressure around my neck. I feel like all the oxygen in my body is being squeezed out.
Pressure around my wrists. It stings, I feel like they have been slashed for hundreds of times.
Pressure around my waist. The urge to vomit is too great; I fear that I might throw up my intestines.
Pressure around my feet. They have gone numb. My feet were probably cut away from me.
The air around me is so dense. I can smell methane with every sharp breath I take.
The road I'm walking on is splatted with a crimson red and sometimes adorned by a murky blackness.
The buildings are corroding, faster than a mouse can escape a cat's claws. Heaps of debris lie everywhere.
My eyes are slowly being void of any glimmer of hope. They have become pools of apathy.
Why, why is this happening?!
What have I done to face a life so bleak?
Our family was tightly-knitted, I was acing my academics, I was enjoying school. I was loving music, I was laughing with my friends.
Then came "society".
I had to go over hurdles, just to get to what is called "happiness".
If I leave for a day off, I would have missed a year's worth of happenings.
Even if I do not want to, I am force-fed to want it, to like it.
I am always told to make my own choices, but the choices laid out on me just lead to the same, dull ending.
Everything around me is controlled.
Everything around me pressures me.
Yet all these pressures brought zero happiness to me.
Working day and night, trying to take over time, but still... Pressure did not make me do a lot of things worth living for.
Deep scars and memories of pain were the things, the horrible things that pressure left in my life.
To enjoy the little things of life is my aim.
Not to live in a pressure cooker.
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