self-destructive empathy ; setosolace

7

Do you know how terrifying it would be to wake up one morning knowing you'll die later in the same day? The more you put that thought in perspective, the more terrifying reality becomes. We're simply wasting our lives with having no ambitions. Hypothetically, if you knew you were going to die soon, you'd want to fulfill more in the time that you have left. Maybe meet that special idol or travel the world. It'll make death a bit more comforting.

Most of us don't know when we're going to die, and that's what pushes us forward. Because if we knew that we were going to die later in the day by some external force, we'd want to avoid it as much as possible. It's just human nature. We want to live under proper conditions. We want to answer questions and figure out the future. However, there is simply nothing worse than knowing how it all ends.

I spent the rest of that particular night contemplating on my experiences these past couple days. Less than a week ago I didn't think much of meeting new people anymore. I just drifted through life with the strict principle of working to have a roof on my head and food on the table. I didn't need to know anyone, let alone make acquaintances. Now I'm all fussed up about some brunet with chocolate honey colored eyes.

I'm not really complaining (despite what Ty thinks). Part of me knows that this will all pass. I'll become alone again and choose to stand aloof from all social activities. Seto will be nothing but a "what if" and Ty will stop pestering me. Six months will pass and I'll be paying rent again. Commissions will continue and I'll just float through life with many conflicts that regard my own income. In other words, everything will return back to normal.

"It's Saturday!" Ty yells. On weekends he rarely has an inside voice. When he speaks it's like a police, ambulance, and fire truck siren combined. It catches me off guard, like usual, and I topple out of bed and onto the ground.

"Ty, could you please be quiet!" I shout back. He rushes into my room and drags me by the arm. I groan, refusing to get up.

"We're going to hang out at Adam's house today!" I stare back at him blankly, a frown on my face. I could compare this situation to a child on Christmas Day. They're dragging their parents out of bed on an early morning to open their presents. Except, there are no presents and this is way more torturous.

"We?" I hiss. "When did I agree to this?"

"I'm paying rent for six months, so you have to listen to what I say." Of course he pulls that card. I roll my eyes and stand up.

"Fine. I'll go take a shower and get ready. You make us breakfast," I grumble as I slam my bedroom door in his face.

It takes me a while to get ready. This is mainly because I'm dreading the commute to Adam's house. In the secrecy of the bathroom I'm, once more, praying to some god that Ty won't get too irrational with his driving. It's weird since I'm naked, but as they say: "Jesus is always watching." I'm not religious or anything, but it's nice to think that there's an afterlife.

I eventually have to exit the shower because I've gotten hungry and prune-y. I dry my body and hair with a towel then change into my clothes. It's just a long sleeved black shirt with two golden stripes at the edge of the sleeves. Also, it's a really stupid idea to attempt to put on navy blue ripped skinny (well, not really "skinny" but the manufacturers call them skinny) jeans when your legs aren't even dried yet. I hopped around for a while before getting them on. I don't bother to dry my hair or anything since it'll do that on its own. I'll just throw a beanie over it.

I exit the bathroom and back into my room to put on my shoes. Since I was taking my sweet time, I went to go search for my black converse shoes that had mysteriously gone missing. It turns out they were shoved in the back of my closet with some of my old clothes from my freshman year of high school. I grabbed them and put them on. I hope there weren't any bugs in them.