A story of you

Every morning he’ll wake up with a start. Your voice would echo through the walls. You’ll call him in a sickly sweet voice. You’ll scream if he doesn’t answer. 

 Every morning starts with a sprinkle of profanities. Always with profanities.

All his life he has endured all your naggings. Everyday he braced himself for your daily dose of verbal poison. You belittle him. You made him inhuman. You make it a habit to step on what little dignity he has left.
In every second he was with you, you slowly strip him of his hopes, morals, and dreams of ever becoming something. You destroy every twinkle in his eyes. Your every stomp of his dream reduce him to nothing but an animal. He tries hard to fight it. With every jab of insults that you threw him, he answers even if at the end of it you’ll pour even more poison to his system

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You don’t have to read this. It’s my blog anyway. I might sound whiny and like a baby and believe me I’m doing nothing but have mini tantrums in my head. People around me don’t know that I’m getting worse. My anxiety is at its limit. I’ve come to the point that I hate being in a room full of people (har har jokes on me I’m still reviewing boohoo). 

I didn’t want to be this way. Heck, who would? Who would want to bow their head everytime people would be near? Honestly, I’m going to break my neck at this point. As each day pass I’m getting more and more unsocial to the point where my seatmates try to initiate conversations but it would always end in dead air. 

On the brightside, no one bothers me so I think that’s good. This is how I welcome 2017 with a bang.