Snow

Newspapers were there, all talking about the same. He tasted his whiskey once again. He hit he door once again. He only hurt himself once again.

Full of rage, everything was out of control. He used to plan carefully every step of the way, but too many things were wrong this time. At least, he believed this. Reality turned against him so suddenly, slapping his face. He deserved it. He knew he deserved it, but he just could not believe it.

This is not how things work.

He remembered everything he did once again, trying to find his mistakes, but he could not find a single thing. All this garbage was talking about him. Who are them, to talk this way about him? They don't know a f*king thing. They don't know who he is. (Wait a moment... does he even know himself?)

Life is so stupid. Life is so absurd. You are born, and then you die. That's it. If you're lucky, you f*ck a lot of beautiful ladies (even other kind of people, if you have special needs) and you drive expensive cars. If not, you live a miserable life, like all the cockroaches who were now accusing him.

Beautiful idiots.

Everyone left him. He guessed this had to happen, cause this is what always happens. People betray, and lie, to save themselves. He would do the same in their shoes. After all, what matters? Everything is an illusion. Everything comes and goes. You just got to enjoy the most you can in the moment you can.

They say he abused a lot of children. What matters? Why, all of them, are so suddenly caring about this? He had money. He had a good social position. Everybody would do the same in his place. If not, they are liars.

He reminded himself who he is, once again. (It seems he's the one believing this, right now). He's so important. He struggled so hard to reach there. He kicked off so many butts to reach there. People just don't understand this, they don't understand anything. They are idiots.

But he still has this girl. He bought her at a good price. She was going to save him. This is what she's supposed to do. She always saves everyone. But she was still there, feeling him, writing about him, doing nothing at all. Useless. Completely useless. Why did she care so much about people? Just for living this miserable life? He could not understand her, but at least he was not the only one.

The room was so dark. It's been ages since he felt sunrays for the last time. Humidity filled up the air, but he could not give in. Not, while he still had a choice. Not, while he was still breathing.

Maybe he was designed to destroy everybody. Maybe this was his mission. He could not find a single light right now. He only had enemies. They talked about how despicable he is. They betrayed him. It was really hard to breathe.

"Things must change, cause I do have a lot of power" repeated to himself, gulping his whiskey for the last time.

He still had job to do.

He must destroy everything before everything destroyed him.

He was a little ant, and big waves from the ocean were coming to swallow him forever.