Toxic Us.

: E :

I sat, sleepy eyed as I typed a simple question into a computer that my mother rarely used and my father always did. It was comforting that they knew the information without looking at it, but then again did need to double check and make sure they weren’t leading anyone astray.

It had 10983454 hits.

How to be Happy?

That was the question.

It was petty considering there were so many answers but in truth it was something that needed to be asked.

I was like my parents, or rather Kevin and I both were. I saw him sneak down here to type a question in the night before, just like he saw me no more than two minutes earlier creep downstairs. It was something we had watched our parents do, it was a grand habit of double-checking and the need to know that lead us all here.

I clicked on one; it was a letter to no one. Yet I read it anyway since it promised an answer. Despite my clear bad luck when reading letters or essays for that matter I leaned further towards the screen, holding my chin between my palms in mid air.

-

I hate this question.

I do.

I hate it.

I must have you intrigued by now as too why I am answering this elusive question despite the evident hate I show towards it. Well, its because for once in this world someone must share the truth rather than the extravagate lies that often are told when happiness is involved.

It’s that you need to delete the toxic from your life, they become like a virus on your hard drive, eating away at your precious memories stored in those documents until there is nothing left.

That is my answer; it is truthful and is yet to be proven wrong.

I laughed.

I typed my own response in four words.

We are all toxic.