Why Aren't You Helping

/* These two arguments are in a quirked-up CSS Module (rather than the main code block) so users can feed Wikidot variables into them. */
 
#header h1 a::before {
    content: "Cool War 2";
    color: black;
}
 
#header h2 span::before {
    content: "Ruiz From Your Grave";
    color: black;
}
rating: +11+x

It's so hard watching another live a life you yourself dream to live.

You watch as their success grows and grows like tumors upon your skin as you are forced to sit in silence, happy to watch their smiles and the smiles of their ever-growing congregation of associates twist and beam down onto you, their eyes looking down upon you feeling burning rays of desire. You sit back and silently rage inside, boiling and seething within the confines of your self-imposed limitations. You are tortured by their growth when you know you will never reach that height of accomplishment in your own life. Your brain fills with static and want as you fail to understand why you could never hope to be half as interesting or meaningful as they.

These feelings of worthless self-loathing crash down upon you moment after moment as if your confines are digging into your skin like rusted chains. You fail to understand why you even care to be anything other than what you are. You want to scream, to snap your chains, and finally silence the static and the desire with the same sort of crashing echoes heard from your own brain. The days blur into each other in an endless spiral downward of despair as you try and fail to become who you wish you could be.

You attempt, in a way, to escape this prison of limitation. Trying and failing over and over and over and over again to free yourself, each time being met with yet another wave to come once again and knock you to your knees. Your body reacts in the only way it knows how; with fight or flight. You fight and you flee, trying and failing to shake yourself from the depths of despair. You slip into a state of near exhaustion and collapse onto the cold hard floor into an undignified heap.

You are unsure as to how long you sat there, the sweat burning your eyes like needles digging their way into your flesh. Your heart beats frantically, its loud thuds and rapid pulsing like the heartbeat of a thousand already dead and dying people. It beats loudly as if attempting to break through the deafening screams of your own skull. You choke as your eyes, once so full of promise, slowly begin to fill with pools of black. Your mouth and throat are dry and burning, fighting to take in each gulp of air just as your lungs struggle to get oxygen.

There is nothing that can quell the anger, the hate, the urge to simply just give up. Every action, each look, every word you speak is met with that heavy sound of static.

You feel yourself slowly begin to turn pale and feel your pulse begin to slow. Your vision becomes hazy and your body weak. There is nothing that can help you.

You can't feel the thudding of your own heart. It seems to have stopped as you lay on your side, eyes wide open and staring straight at the floor.

You begin to go through the motions of your life, getting up and getting dressed and not having a clue as to why you are moving at all. Your mind begins to fuzz. The static, the desire, and the hate seem to grow at the very center of you, crowding your senses and slowly drawing you down into that dark abyss, that no light can ever reach.

You force yourself back to your feet, tightening the chains around your flesh as you take breath after deep breath.

There is nothing else you can do.

You take one last look at yourself, shaking your head as if you were some desperate onlooker to your own existence. You attempt to make eye contact with yourself, trying and failing to get any sort of response as you begin to turn away.

You are not yourself anymore.

With the last trace of your want worn away, you become what you were always meant to be.

You realize that your body has now become numb. You just want to let it rest and pretend that it is just another part of you and not some foreign object that has replaced who you were. The rest of you slowly slips away, coming out of the shadows and lying at your side. The voices of the one you wish to be echoing through the walls and the laughing faces of their compatriots twisting and growing ever louder. You sit for a moment, letting it all sink in.

The chains loosen their grip.

It is done.

You are gone to the static once again.


With thanks to BankerPaul.

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