Papa, I Learned Melancholy

Mr. Whoever, I declare that the alphabet is no longer a part of my learning career, but rather a tool to express the cage you have politically designed. A lifetime of questioning whether if I deserve what I get through or is it just a loop where I always lose no matter how much I try? I learned to stay shut for the record, as how the sirens filling me, no much attention I get. Perhaps I am not loud enough, or perhaps screaming is a norm for humans for some malicious updates.

A life filled with nicotine of what I never imagined to breathe. A life filled with hate of what I never imagined to picture. A life of me hoping to leave, not the cage, not the world, but the life. Speed action, and for the tearing of an eye, and for the tearing of a heart. I was told to keep pushing chapters, but I was wasting my years for the expectations of having the key for the lock holding my cage. Mentioning the lonely little man, facing the worlds as nothing but an ordinary day of a man to be holding an upcoming family. I always asked myself then why nobody is really my life-alike? Why could they smile? Or, for more details for the broken grown up, how could they feel happiness? Perhaps I am not doing enough to acquire more than what I have. Perhaps this is what we will always deserve.

For my grave, put white flowers, as for my last days, I decided to play chess flipping boards with black pieces. You give of what you get at some point…

After all, maybe you have put me, whoever you are, in a cage that when you let me out, you break me for the blackmailing society. A plan to end an empire, not a little prince searching for happiness, not even a Cinderella. I have learned. Papa, today, I learned melancholy and nothing more, Sir…