Now I am awake at 9 because I live with too many people. It smells like garbage. My "friends" hit my car, scratch the paint, play their music very loudly. At night, too.
I am up early and down late. This has taken a toll on my mental state.
I was never a positive individual. But I wasn't so starkly negative that I would insult strangers before getting to know them. I do that now, to save time. All the same cookie-cutter-self-absorbed-types, I can shoot them down before they have a chance to aim. It is too easy to be mean. I do not feel regret. If people had feelings, they would consider mine.
My mother is an optimist. It takes someone special to be positive in the face of bullshit. I only learned recently that positivity was not always my mother's tendency. She said she had to work at it.
I am not a hard worker.
I am not special.
At best, I am mediocre in everything I attempt.
I can pass.
But I cannot excel.
My mother is better than everyone in this city combined.