It’s dark always here, except for the occasional opening of me. The light blinds my nonexistent eyes. Why does everybody hate me? You must be thinking why I think everyone hates me. Well, if they liked me then they wouldn’t throw trash all over me now would they? I’m so over the trash. Disgusting chicken bones are the worst. I just wish I could hold my breath, so that I didn’t have to smell this horrible stench all the time. That is all I smell. All day, every day. It stinks to be a trashcan (pun intended). Why couldn’t I have been a cupboard?  They live the good life. They have food stored in them not nasty trash. I would even settle for a bathtub, and that is saying something. The best days are when the trash needs taking out, and a new fresh bag replaces the old smelly used trash bag that I had been currently been containing. The scented trash bags are my best friends. We share stories about our miserable lives, and I suck in its freshness. I feel so lonely all the time, because the only time I get to see someone is when they open my lid, and that’s for a brief period because they just dump their trash on me. What did I do to deserve this job as crap collector? At least these people that own me wash me…occasionally. They wash me once a month, and let me tell you once is not nearly enough with all the trash I go through my life daily (again, pun intended). I hate my stinking life! I hope in the next life I am a fridge or something like that. I can’t wait for trash day, but that is five days away. I wish I had a voice so I could tell the terrible people not to throw all their crap on me, or annoy them so much that they wouldn’t ever use me. I just don’t want to be a trashcan any more. Somebody should save me from this horrible life that I live.