The Laughter of Satan

One of the most fucked up stories , I ever wrote. I am ashamed and proud in the same time. Give a man a paradox and he will always try to find a deeper meaning but there isn't.

 You wake up, you dont wan't to but you have to. You look outside the window - and nothing of interest. You go and have a shower. The hot water sprinkling over you wakes you , it drives your cold and numb body in euphoria like state. You brush your teeth and the strong minty power stings your mind- forcing you to wake up. You're awake, you look outside your window and again nothing of interest. You stare at your wardrobe and try to dig through your mountain of clothes only to choose the ones you first saw on the top. You put them on,you take them off, they're dirty, they dont feel right, today is not the weather to wear that now is it? You end up wearing the same shirt you took off and re-weared for the fourth time. You go downstairs to the kitchen. You have fifteen minutes before your bus comes. It takes you ten minutes to decide what to eat. You run to the bus stop , you catch it and you go college. You hear the teacher blabber continously and each teacher blabbers more than the other. They expect a lot from you , they think that you always run your mind so they never bother you, they bother the guy or girl next to you who has his mind running but is considered an idiot amongst other idiots. You count each second , you wait for the lesson to finish and it does.

You walk to the bus stop , you get home. You eat food , food that tastes the same each day, you dream and think about when will it stop. When will it ever finish? It never does. You throw  the food away, you can't eat ; not because you're not hungry but because you think you are turning vegeterian or so you tell yourself.

You feel the sting , the painful sting followed by pure and complete euphoria. Ignorance is bliss, you see your teachers laughing at you , you hear your own blabbered voice. You sense each heartbeat, the walls around you are bigger than you thought and the food you graciously thrown is now a cuisine. You want it back ,  you want it all back. You try to climb or rather crawl yourself to your room. Each stair is harder than the one before , you keep your head down as you crawl and when you look up all you see are pictures , frames of yourself. Laughing , Yelling at you. Finally , you reach the bed and you try to sleep. You think , think and think. The laughter of those other versions of you don't help to your thinking. You fall asleep, babies dont sleep this well.

You wake up, you look outside the window- and nothing of interest.

Author's Note

there are grammar problems. I was told that it is very hard to create a story purely based on 2nd person(you) so i tried it and this is what I came to create. A piece of garbage to me but it might be different to you. One Man's garbage is another man's treasure.