It's a sunny weekend, spring unfolds flowers, trees are revealing their true colors, the sound of birds chirping echoes everywhere, everything is getting a fresh breath. And on days like these I either work or stay at home. I hate spring because the sun shines too much, it feels like my body sweats like it's steaming, everything just gets so lively that it irritates me. Spring is the season I loathe. I like autumn and winter. Autumn and winter have sceneries that carry calming energy and give me some sense of peace. Now I'm sitting on a chair in a corner of my room. My desk is a mess, trash is everywhere, empty bag of chips on the ground beside the desk, there are lot of cables beside my desk on the floor and some of them lie on top of the desk, my school books are lying mixed up under my desk. The reason I don't clean after myself is because I don't feel like doing anything, I just don't see the point in doing it, I don't see the point in doing anything at all. Everything I do doesn't matter and never will, and what eats me is that even if I tried, there is still something I will get screwed for. When trying is not enough, then what is enough? Why even bother trying to make things right when it's never enough? Those questions run through my mind every night trying to sleep. I don't care about my grades, leaving school works until deadline. In my notebooks lay unfinished notes waiting to be completed. Crumbled results from exams are anywhere but not in trash can. There is a incompletely crumbled paper that shows "management history and modern functions", next to it are laying numbers that say "45%". School is a system to make us slaves to memorize useless information and put it on a piece of paper, and as a result you get a meaningless number. Most of what we have to study are things that we will never need to have a successful career. Useless. On my desk there is an open laptop with screen glowing along with my RGB mouse. On that screen there glows a Web search and the search bar is blank filled. And I just sit there looking at the screen in while sun rays shine through the window giving me flashes. I was so bored that I didn't know what to do, and didn't have the appetite to do anything. It felt like I was tired but really wasn't, so I just sat there with my eyes glued to that screen until I started seeing in colors, as if I were wearing colored lenses, I was seeing in colors of my RGB mouse, on that screen there were colors moving diagonally and it started waving through the whole screen up and down. A minute later I started seeing a room in 3D like a drawing but the room was empty, it was just blank. Emptiness. After a while a bear plushie appeared with cubes floating around the room in one motion. I had a strong feeling that I saw that plushie somewhere, perhaps I saw it as a child. Some of my childhood memories lay inside my head in unconscious state, several memories remained present, but for some reason I can't recall this plushie. It was a pink fluffed teddy bear with a bandana under it's chin. On that bandana was written "smile for teddy", I felt drawn to it and creeped out at the same moment. After that moment I pulled myself away from those visions. My eyes were fixed to that screen 30 minutes straight. My mind felt empty. It was like I didn't feel anything at all, like a motionless machine. Suddenly I stood up and went out of my room. I passed through a hall where is a mirror laying on wall. In that mirror you could see a lifeless looking man with unkempt hair and same clothes that he has been wearing a month passing through. I passed by the mirror and couldn't even give it a side eye. The disgust would run through me if I saw myself there. Back in primary school, I was the one to be made fun of for being "weird". My understanding of social life was never there. And understanding humans never appeared in my heart nor in my brain, and the disconnection that lingers in my mind ever since primary school keeps creeping up on me. Those memories where I always get left out of everything, a room of kids of my age where I am just another molecule of Oxygen. Invisible and forgotten. Sitting on a chair in a corner of the classroom, watching everyone around chatting and having fun always made me feel jealous and empty. I was just an average student with decent grades, but only because grandma coerced me into studying because she would be ashamed of me being the "dumbest" in the class. I thought that somehow I would matter more if I get better grades. In reality you just get punished for one mistake and somehow all the success you have reached doesn't matter at all, like it never existed. At least that's how it goes for me. It was never "you did great, keep going" but "you could have done better". When I finally did get a good grade, she always made fun of it implying that I got a good result because it was probably simple when an Ignoramus like me passed it with a good grade. The more I grew up the more I realised that it was never for my own good but for the good of her pride. After pulling out of those thoughts I filled my glass with water and drank it while looking at clocks. Their small arm pointed at 2 while the big arm points at 3 numbers higher. Exhaustion went right through me as my eyes followed the long thin arm's ticking. I made my way back to my room barely with eyes half asleep. At the end of the room there lays my modern style black bed, even that bed is a mess. That sheet looks like it got chewed up, and my pillow looks like it got ran over. Next to the bed lays a guitar on a stand. It's a sunburst stratocaster with a black pick guard. A beautiful guitar that only serves as a decoration now, is endlessly waiting for me to play on it again. That dream of becoming a guitarist is long gone. The feeling of happiness rushing through me after buying it was like a fulfilled life goal… but not long after that, it disappeared when grandma discouraged me saying that I don't have the talent for it and I will never learn to play. She always called me "idiot" and "stupid"for even buying a guitar. At first the guitar made few noises but then it went silent and was never heard again. I gave up on even trying to learn something on it. Trying to play on it again would just bring me anxiety and frustration. What a joke, right? Justifying myself giving up on my dreams cause of an old hag discouraging me from doing what I want. Just blaming everything except myself, well… that's the only thing I'm good at. I threw my body on my bed. My eyes closed.
