who i'd be {saummer}

Sometimes, being insane sucks ass.

Then again, everyone must be. At least everyone here- they're the insane ones. We all volunteered to either kill or die, and it sucks. We're like some new sort of bred insanity, where we all somehow got brainwashed into the idea that we would all be winners. Some of us volunteered because we knew that we needed to. To give others hope, to make our brothers (or sisters) make a move. Against whatever fucked up anarchy we've been born under. We're insane, but that's okay. We're all a little bit crazy in this big old world of people. Nobody is bred for perfection.

Life is disappointing.

I don't know much about life, though. All I know about life is that it’s filled with lies. Not only lies, but it sure seems like there is a hell of a lot of lies in this life. I’m someone that likes to focus on the positive most of the time. It’s the one place I want to be; in a world where happiness is eternal, and where fear is not in the public eye. But it’s hard to focus on the good when all you can remember is the bad. It's like trying to pair one and one, but those two ones do not want to match. You can't ever escape the disappointments you've made yourself revolve around because the goods are always too easy to exhaust out. And I wish I could change that.

If I was able to dictate the story of who I'd be, I could be a hero with a sword and armor clashing. I could be a poet; write my own stories of glory. One way different from the one I have today. A viking? A life of daring, while still not caring about myself. A tribute's fate is known, a tribute stays in the dark and fallen. And most of all, a tribute does not cry.

I wish I could change myself to be a hero- that'd be what I want to be. But, as outed by my home, I cannot be a hero. Careers are monsters, bred machines to fulfill whatever duties that we've been sent to do. But I'm not a career.

I'm not a big, ugly, nasty Career. I'm anything but that. With my brown hair and speckled face, I represent youth. My eyes are a hazel that my mom brought into my life, which reveal a warm feeling. Career's aren't supposed to be warm. They're supposed to be cold blooded, hard killers and that's who I wish I wouldn't be. I want to be someone that's known for being heroic, not for killing people. Marcus, Diorite, Ophelia, Atlas, Jano. They're all dead because of me, and I can't break away from the chain that I've been placed down to.

Armor held tight, sword raised high, and this big bright beautiful world being all for me. Where I was a hero, and I didn't have to be driven farther into insanity than I already had been at this rate of the hell experiment.

A perfect, happy, ending; that's how it should be.

{ but not for me }.