This is a semi-random little ramble. It's neither my best nor my worst. But, between you and me, it's a little closer to the "worst" side of things— in my opinon. Reviews are always appreciated

She wasn’t supposed to be like Them. She was supposed to be different. Not like one of Those people. One of the people she hated, many of them perhaps… there were so many.

They had probably started out alright enough, vaguely content with life, somewhat successful… no major problems or concerns. Neutral.

That’s how everyone starts. Before It happens. Then some everyones become Them. That’s how it always happens.

But now she was becoming one of Them… a slow decent into what she dreaded most, her values and hibitions deteriorating into what could only be described as Them. Because of It. Because she wasn’t as strong as she had thought she was. Since, despite her belief in good, she was human. It consumed her.

She couldn’t believe how one’s beliefs could so quickly change; how selfishness and personal gain could overcome passions she thought she held so clearly and nearly.

It felt easy, she felt cheap. The world’s stingy, perhaps. Good tends not to be rewarded, by her previous definition. Her apathy made her pathetic. Absolutely pitiable, but so much more comfortable than before. Hating herself but loving her life, all of Them were.

In her mind, she could recall a thousand quotes that inspired her to further an upward battle in the years, decades- it felt like lifetimes, sometimes- previous. They could be boiled down and condensed into a few simple words: “It is hard to choose between what is right and what is easy.” But being right was easy? Right? In the day’s politics and in her façade. Her daily lie, so convincing she often believed her self. She convinced herself of things deemed horrible before. More importantly, she convinced Them.

No one was out to make the world a better place any more, They just wanted to succeed today, fuck tomorrow. Long ago were the days of societal gain- unless for personal interest, of course. She looked out her window and tried to conjure a turning point, the part of her existence where life had stopped being driven by her, and started being driven by society.

It was society. It was life. It was They. It was succeeding. It is. It’s everything. It is a struggle. They fuel It. It is god; It is US president. It is unnatural. It is the most natural of all. It is human. They are not human.

Perhaps It was always affecting her, perhaps she could just believe she was driving her own car for that period in her life, for most of her life… maybe she just thought she really cared, but was subconsciously manipulating herself. Maybe it may be a maybe. It just might, perhaps They just might.

They could tell her that. They could tell her anything. Lies or truth, or the unhappy mix- reality.

Where did the turmoil begin? The hypocrisy and ignorance and blatant… negation of morals.

She liked to believe many things… what were true and what false? Was there a human fiber within them all? Or was it just a mask- hiding a complex dance made by random chance.

She knew there were no divinities, only existence. Right? Nothing she could see all the time, but nothing she couldn’t see anythyme somehow. Write? The spice of light begins to confuddle Those who listen two long. It’s like putting two socks on your hands. Each hand.

Maybe she just needed a hand. A pick-up hand. The kind you can’t buy anymore- the ones out of stock. A friend is so rare, so hard to define.

Life is about definitions a lot. She can’t just defyne things. She’s not refyned enough. She’s never eNOugh. It’s all technology now.

It is all precise now. They are all precise now. Never precyse. Creation was rare, and specific. Ironically contradictory, satisfactorily fake. The world was different.

Maybe all the goodness got used up. They ran out. It made them run away.

She shouldn’t think about this anyway. She should just do her daily tasks. Introversion is for the weak? Or should it remain superficial? Yes, that is It. It can be solved with a pill or something.

After all, It was productive; They got jobs done, even if cost was too much.

Ideals are relative; They used to be too selfish to realize that. Of course. She shouldn’t be so silly. Sew silie- stop that. Her mind should remain in one track at a time.

Logic is the only way to keep the world balanced, the only way to keep the world intact. Without It, we fall apart.

Creativity should just be used to solve problems, but not too much- otherwise more problems will be creative. The middle path is the best. Don’t stray too far, otherwise you’ll be lost and hunted down.

Do what they want. They are right. They follow rules. They conform. It’s better that way. It’s better to be boring than incorrect.

She took a glass, attempting to calm herself. Glasses are calming; They help you see things clearer, in a less complicated manner.

Of course, the glasses should stop. She should see the world the way she wants to. Not the way They do, but that’s what got her into this mess anyway. There aren’t any explanations.

Tomorrow she can wake up, and feel the same as she does today.

Or she can wake up with no worries, happily ignorant.

Is bliss worth It? What is if It isn’t? Are They worth It? They certainly think so.

Maybe she should be what she’s always wanted, what she was before, or at least thought she was before, when her perspective was forming. Maybe her perspective still was. Perhaps this was her epiphany. The big one. Maybe it may be a maybe, in a million days.

She could dedicate herself to nothing, or find something. For once, again she could try to stop the vicious sicle of hippocrahcie. Chaynje the thenges shi wntd tou. This was her life. This is her life. Yes.

Make a difference.