To think that the worst thing that could happen would actually happen.

“Absurd,” the court guard says, his voice loud enough to scare the birds outside the building.\

“We won!!” the crowd erupts in joy.

How sweet victory must be.
To win… to trample on others — that is perhaps the better way to phrase it.

Do the victors ever consider the feelings of the losing party, I wonder?
Do the models on TV know how much damage they cause by making themselves the standard of humanity?
Do the college campus queens know they are the worst, the way they dangle men from their well-manicured nails?

Oh, how sweet sorrow blinds the one who views life from the perspective of social media....

“Yo, what are you even looking at?”

Oh, just like every good story, a sidekick is needed. In my case, that is a fella named…

“Oh hey, Jackson.”

“Contemplating about ending the world again, are we?”

“Well, for you to be my sidekick, we need some ambition, don’t we?”

Just like always, Jackson is the complete version of myself, but in the opposite manner. And like any loyal minion, there is always a show of commitment. In this case, he sticks to me like gum on my shoe that I can’t get rid of.

“Come to think of it, how did you get in my room?”

“Oh, that? Your roommate let me in while you were spaced out watching your series.”

.....

University life at its best. There is simply no privacy. I almost had a great monologue for my journal — my man diary — there. Damn it all.