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He Cried for Glory This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

They always tell me that I should socialize more often because if a person doesn’t communicate with another person they’ll go insane, some random chick in my hall told me. Well, she didn’t tell me face to face. In fact, she was talking about me in the hall while I sat in my room. She speaks very loudly. They all do. My roommate just tells me to ignore them. He always does. It’s weird how they say stuff and never really actually think what position I’m in, but it doesn’t matter. To them, I’m just a blank face with nothing to say. Is it alright if I cry? No, my roommate would tell me. He is an odd person my roommate. Rarely speaks with those around him, seems rude to everyone, and yet some will still say hello to him. Personally, I think he is a coward. Everyone is giving him a chance, but he shoots them down because he is “busy.” I wish people would give me a chance then maybe they would finally get me. I remember a day when we were high and he told me that he was sick with life, that every time we’re at the garage he imagines himself jumping for no reason. He wants his death to be a mystery. Do I do anything about it? No, it is his choice. It gave life and free will to him so it lets him do whatever he wants to do with his life. He’s never going to do it though because one particular person is still part of him.

Tell me, what makes a man?

He told me that he is losing grip with reality. It’s not the people, it’s him. Guilt is what is ruining him. Yet, I tell him, what are you guilty of? His responses are always the problems of others. Why does he let those burdens pile upon him? For now, I do not know. We’ll talk and talk until its three o’clock in the morning. He can’t sleep well, he tells me. Sometimes he’ll cry and wonder what is wrong with him, why can’t he shake this horrifying malaise that’s surrounding him. It is the somber life that he is beginning to grown accustom to. There are things out there, he’ll tell me, that I can’t do nothing about and place as my burden, as though I am guilty of such acts. Pretty selfish. There was one night when he came back from smoking and when he got back here, he started to masturbate to porn. Did not even notice I was there. After his session, he fell to the ground. He was disgusted with himself. I am filthy animal! He would moan. We didn’t even pray. He told me that he was too unbearable to the eyes of the lord right now.

Tell me, why are people self-conscious?

I could forever talk about my roommate and his flaws that hinder him to function correctly, but let’s take a breather. All this talk of guilt and burdens is bringing me down. When I was a child my mother and father told me that I shouldn’t give a damn about how the world views me. Problem is, as people get older self-awareness gets the best of them. People’s comments don’t bring people down. It is the thoughts of people that bring them down. I can forever say that this is true, but there’ll be probably some debate on it in the future or maybe even now. Who says I’m even right? All I’ve said can actually be wrong. My thoughts are just fabrications of billions of neutrons pulsing and creating words which become sentences, which turn into thoughts. However, I will never say that my thoughts are lies. Let us forget, what was said in the previous sentence as I was not thinking. In fact, let me just shut up.

Tell me, is everything relative?

He slipped on his jacket and spritz some cologne. The world was ready for him. This was the day he said that he will give up on life. Finally, he was ready to accept himself. We both walked out his room. He was smiling, a rare moment. While waiting for the elevator he asked me, “Do you think I’m capable of any greatness?” I didn’t respond. Then I asked him, “Why do you place burdens upon yourself that are not yours?” He didn’t respond. I said, “Do you think you are special? Do you even understood the true pain of those burdens? Why would you give up your life yet try to live the life of another. It doesn’t make sense.” He quietly said, “Life doesn’t make sen…” “Don’t give me your “Life doesn’t make sense bulls***, okay! I don’t care, I DON’T care! Stop thinking you are some important individual because you’re not. Once you can get that past your mind then you’ll find peace!” I screamed, interrupting him. He came up to my face and said, “So what now? You think you’re special because you think you truly understand me, but see that’s your flaw. Can’t stop thinking you’re right, but in order not to feel that you’re some a**hole wunderkind you degrade yourself by telling yourself that your thoughts are wrong and always are. What makes you think that you are any better than me?” I said right to his face, “’Cause, I’m your better half.” The elevator doors open.

The street was mostly empty. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” my roommate said. “Same here.” We were both walking to the record store. The sky was white. “It’s going to snow, isn’t it?” he told me. I nodded my head and snowflakes began to fall. The world right now was trying to clean us, I guess. “What does death feel like?” he asked me. I let out a sigh, “Wish I knew, why do you ask?” I turned to his side and saw him on his knees. There was a knife in his back. He grabbed my hand and said, “I don’t want to give up yet.” I held him, I held him tightly. He did not struggle, he did not cry. The world watch, it watch and did nothing, but I should not complain for I am the same. His grip became tighter and he began to scream. He was slowly pulling the knife out. Once out, he slowly tried to get up, but he couldn’t sustain his body with that wound. He latched himself to the light pole and then lifted himself. He slowly started to drag himself across the street. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Going to the hospital,” he muttered. The snow began to fall faster until I couldn’t see him anymore. This is the moment I became just an entity to the world. It was a good thing, I assume. I’ll just have to accept it, just as he realized what must be done. We owe thanks to the world and it for they have made us into the people we are today.

Why do we think? Such an unbearable question isn’t it? Let’s forget about the problems of the world. For now, the world is best left alone.



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