Welcome To

I thought I'd upload another piece of writing, this time it's a couple of chapters from something I started writing over a year ago (and have since decided to abandon the idea.) I was reading a lot of Chuck Palahniuk at the time, and I'm pretty sure it shows. Anyway, there's a couple of lines that still amuse me so I can't bring myself to delete the file completely. (I haven't included the prologue or the other 4ish chapters)

p.s warning: strong language etc etc
p.p.s I'm really not this cynical in real life. honest. 

Chapter 1

Welcome to the first day of summer.

Welcome to freedom.

Welcome to a stuffy little cafe in the middle-of-fucking-nowhere.

I come here to study. Or at least, I used to. Now I'm sat with fuck all to do and nothing to fill my otherwise empty day, I'm noticing all the morons who join me in this shit hole.

I've got to get out of this town.

To the left of me, meet a man who lost his hair at the age of twenty. This same man weighs a solid eighteen stone and the cheap floor of this place practically shakes every time he takes a step. This is the kind of man who you know didn't screw anyone but himself until he was at least thirty. Even then, he probably had to pay someone to get the job done.

At his current age, of about forty five, he most certainly has a poor little house wife at home (read: wedding ring stuck on chubby finger.)

He is also most certainly cheating on his housewife with his whore of a secretary who is gagging for a pay rise and has therefore resorted to literally gagging on the end of his cock to get it.

All in all, meet an average bloke from this shitty little town.

Switch to the cash desk, where a woman who is probably in her mid-twenties is ordering her daily 'small skinny latte with cream to go.' A walking contradiction. She's a 'modern' woman, you can tell this by her skirt suit, she's career minded and all of that. (read: I'm strong minded and independent, but I fucked a man like the bloke in the corner to get this promotion.) She would call herself a feminist, a man would call her a dyke, I'd call her a joke. Whatever. Same difference.

She's as stupid as the rest of us. She's the reflection of all of our mothers, apart from she's hiding her loneliness and need for marriage behind a work desk and nice size pay cheque.

If you look at one of the barristers who works here, you can tell she's as sick of these people as we all are. She's more trapped than I am, at this particular moment in time. I can walk out away from them all, until I cross paths with the next dickhead. She has to stay and smile pleasantly at the people she loathes, just so she gets a tip. This will pay for her hair cut, her make up, her jewellery, her vain attempts to fill her pitiful existence.

We're all the fucking same.

On the stained,cracked,practically vandalised table in front of me, my phone vibrates with such energy it almost throws itself off onto the floor; as if to say 'No, not another text message. Yet more interaction with another person?!'

I would reply, 'Yes, I agree with you. Don't go throwing yourself from a height without me!'

My hand spasms out to save my phone from an untimely death; it a reflex action- technology calls and we all jump.

“Not going to be able to make it! Gotta go visit the fam, such fun. X ”

(Read: “I'm full of lame ass excuses, this never changes and you have ten messages exactly the same as this. Jokes on you!”)

Now I just feel stupid, you'd think I would learn to expect this. I suppose I do expect it, I'd just like to be proven wrong. In my own naïve way, I'd like to believe that there is a person out there who won't let me down. It's not just failing to meet me for a coffee, it's the lack of consideration that gets me. It's the repetition of being let down. It's the hurt I feel every single time, and the way I never speak of how truly fucked off with this person I am!

I'm the easiest kind of person to screw over. I am the stereotype of a victim. I hate most people, but I'm on the list with the worst. I'm the one who complains and criticises, yet never does anything proactive to change things. Being hurt is so natural to me that I allow anyone and everyone to take a cheap shot at me, I will complain about this but never stand up and say “Hey, fuck off!”

I am the stereotype of a silent victim who's as cliché as the rest of them.

Chapter 2

I don't usually hate people as much as I do today. It's just that I spent yesterday surrounded by people hugging and crying on people who they've never interacted with at all until then, for some reason the idea that they will not see each other again means that for one day (and one day only) they must endeavour to be the best of friends and make up for lost time.

Naturally, I was dragged into this; and smiling had never been so painful.

“I can't believe we're all going to different places now! It'll be like, SO weird. Oh my god, I'm going to miss everyone SO much!”

Repeat this a hundred times over and then try not to feel bitter about pretending to care about people.

I've never understood why people feel like just because they're thrown into the same place, they are then obliged to care about each other.

Who are we fooling by doing this?

It's because of days like this that we all have trust issues. How easy it is to pretend to that we care when inside we're thinking “Yeah...couldn't give a shit really.”

How many times have I believed someone when they say they care; when in fact the colour of the wall directly behind me is far more important.

It's days like yesterday that reinforce my disgruntlement against the general human race, my self included.

The cherry on the cake, the finale of a beautiful day; we're all herded into a sweaty little hall and forced to listen to a self righteous pompous prick;

“Today is the first day of the rest of your life, embrace it...This is when the real work begins, this is the time you have to really focus on what it is you want. It may not be easy to achieve, but through hard work and dedication, with the help of education and those around you, you can achieve whatever it is you are dreaming of...It's a long journey, and I hope you feel as though you are leaving this chapter of your life fully equipped to tackle the next chapters...At times you may feel as though it's worthless, as if the world is a dark place; but know this: You are not alone. Look around you...these are the people you have spent the past eight years with, experienced and learnt the ropes of life with. Take them with you, gather others along the way, keep hold of what it's important and leave your life open to the many great things that are waiting for you.”

“Bullshit,” I think.