Brats.

She tried hard. Very hard. To hold on to what she had left of herself. She fought. Fought the hollowness that tried to invade her eyes that raced with thoughtfulness. She tried to fight the carelessness that was slowly creeping into her heart, making her break the people she loved. She fought every insane thought that invaded her mind. Thoughts that created in her a desire to hurt, to break, to hurt everyone including herself. Thoughts that created in her a dark side.

She did try. She did try to fight it. She did try to hold on to what little she had left of herself. She did try to hold on to her humble attitude and forgiving nature. She did try to hold on to her idea of second chances. She did try to hold on to the love she held for each person that had hurt her. She did try to hold onto herself. Her recognition. Her identity.

Exhausted from inside, void of any desire to try, she lost. How would it help anyway? Thinking of how people used her for her sweet caring attitude, what was even the point in holding on to this part of her that would only attract more so they could use her? Who cares anyway? If she’s happy or even sad? Who cares if she’s hurt? Who cares if a sea of dread fills her inside? Who cares if she smiles a hollow wicked smile at the patheticness of her brokenness? Who cares if she harms herself out of irrational hate for herself? Who cares if she screams at night when life feels painful? Who cares if she drowns herself in silent tears? Who cares if she puffs out desolate sighs that hold unbearable pain? Who cares if she’s gone? Who cares?

No one does. That’s the harsh reality of life. No one cares. Reality smacks her in the face every time she dares to dream. To question it, is to bring a bridge collapsing right on to you. She knows this. Who could know better but her?

This time, she’ll get real. No one cares. She won’t either. Letting go of the hope that care will arrive some time, she fades into nothingness as this devil reveals itself to her. She is lost. Her identity is lost. In place of her stands the same girl, but yet so different. This new her shares her mind with this demon that she embraced so willingly. Now in place of her stands the very meaning of a bitch.

This is how they are created. Reality is all it takes. Reality and a few devious thoughts whispered by the devil himself into the minds of lost, broken souls. But most of all, it takes the fact that no one cares, while EVERYONE is a part of this no one. I am a part and so are you. So, congratulations to you ’cause we all together created this brat.

But who are we then, to whine about brats being such brats? Who are we then to judge them as mean when in reality, we are the mean ones ’cause we NEVER CARED. This devil must be laughing at the patheticness of humans. Laughing at how stupid we are to accuse our brats of being such brats while we ourselves created them to be brats.

How do I know this? I know, yes. I know full well because I’m the brat and while you criticize me, and while the devil laughs at you, I stand here alone and mock you and all humans. For I am not the brat, but you are.

See this mean side of me? This brat that I conceal in me. This part of me that mocks and taunts and makes fun of you? Well, if you think about it, I’m still not a brat. And even if I am, I’m not yet as great of a brat as you are. ‘Cause I here, haven’t yet accomplished the task of creating another brat, while you, as you try to deny this, have already conquered the task. In fact, you are on such high ranks of ‘bratiness’, that you even have the heart to criticize me and accuse me of being bratty. So cheers to each and every human out there ’cause each and every one of them conceals a bitch and bastard in them. It’s only a matter of understanding this whole business of brats, and everything you ever tried to conceal will be exposed.

So cheers again to the brats and higher cheers to the greater brats who yet lie to themselves believing that they’re innocent.  Let’s all face it and embrace the bad that we conceal in ourselves, for there is no point in hiding it.

I ALREADY KNOW.

 

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