Ungrateful Little Demon

Maybe I am just an ungrateful little demon, or maybe I am correct.

The place where I am, the person that I am becoming, these people who are calling me their friend– everything is true and untrue at the same time.

I know what I want and the boy I love reminds of that every single day.

I know who I want to become and my old friends remind me of her everyday.

But every single day is divided in to little moments and big moments and more often than not, the big moments are the ones that pull me away from the dream.

The dream that was nonexistent until after all of the heartaches that I had to endure.

This place lacks refinement.

Friends turn their backs against each other in pursuit of a more powerful set of mouths that could pinpoint the next ‘most-hated’ person in the place.

And luckily for me, I was able to join the bigger force.

What appeared as harmless sharing, spiralled down to a deeply rooted anger against people who are simply unlucky.

We all have one enemy. 

That’s the mantra.

We all have one enemy. 

That’s the rule.

And at first, it was easier to swallow that mindset.

When days progressed however, the anger grew bigger and bigger.

And the mantra was changed.

From “We all have one enemy”, it became “We all have one enemy, and we all hate the enemy’s allies.”

Okay, I get it.

They’re pro evil– the allies.

But what if the allies are merely scared souls. What if they’re just trying to salvage their asses from getting chomped off of the class roll?

Well isn’t hating them a little too much?

And even for our one enemy, do we really have to despise her that much?

Maybe I am a little too weak for this line of work.

Maybe I can’t handle office politics rather well.

Or maybe I am just an ungrateful little demon– a two-faced, blog-writing little shit who’s got something to say under a false name– a coward.

I need to get out of this place as fast as I can.

But first, I must go in and laugh along with the powerful.

The dish from last night event’s still hot and hateful.


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