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Untitled by Mathew Brooker
There is something missing in my life, there is a void, a big vast empty space. I’m not looking for fame; it’s not a new phone, suit
or car... I feel like I lack life & perspective. None of us really suffer so how are we supposed to know when we are not?
I just want to be engulfed, swallowed up and spat out, stripped of this unfulfilling sludge to work and meaningless chit chat. I don’t
smile, I grimace gracefully seeking acceptance to a world I don’t understand, where society bends and contorts you. We learn to
be this way from young, but I didn’t. I am stubborn and straight, I care not for the riches of millions, but the happiness known by a
few.
What is it I really want…? I seek adventure and excitement! I want to feel alive, to be scared and riddled with adrenaline! But
instead I have no medium for my melancholy, no format for my perverse thoughts… I want to set the sky on fire and watch the
world fall apart. I want to see suffering and tears, No, not tears, because they are not real. You don’t see sheep or dogs cry! I want
to hunt down a fellow human and tear them apart with my hands. I want to feel my savage and bloodthirsty emotions filtered and
cleansed through actions. We don’t live anymore; we don’t struggle or feel… we have created our own zoo to keep us locked away
from others unlike us… It’s not natural to sit here and type this. These emotions are a product of a lack of product, of nothingness.
My place in society is based not on who I am but what I do. The third world suffers, they die, they drop off like flies, but they don’t
whimper on the tube or grumble and about politics, they are more reserved and accepting than any man or women I have met to
date.
or car... I feel like I lack life & perspective. None of us really suffer so how are we supposed to know when we are not?
I just want to be engulfed, swallowed up and spat out, stripped of this unfulfilling sludge to work and meaningless chit chat. I don’t
smile, I grimace gracefully seeking acceptance to a world I don’t understand, where society bends and contorts you. We learn to
be this way from young, but I didn’t. I am stubborn and straight, I care not for the riches of millions, but the happiness known by a
few.
What is it I really want…? I seek adventure and excitement! I want to feel alive, to be scared and riddled with adrenaline! But
instead I have no medium for my melancholy, no format for my perverse thoughts… I want to set the sky on fire and watch the
world fall apart. I want to see suffering and tears, No, not tears, because they are not real. You don’t see sheep or dogs cry! I want
to hunt down a fellow human and tear them apart with my hands. I want to feel my savage and bloodthirsty emotions filtered and
cleansed through actions. We don’t live anymore; we don’t struggle or feel… we have created our own zoo to keep us locked away
from others unlike us… It’s not natural to sit here and type this. These emotions are a product of a lack of product, of nothingness.
My place in society is based not on who I am but what I do. The third world suffers, they die, they drop off like flies, but they don’t
whimper on the tube or grumble and about politics, they are more reserved and accepting than any man or women I have met to
date.
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