Filth.
A lot different from what I usually write. I literally wrote this in a short period of time, after writing it wondering where it had all come from, as I hadn't paused or even stopped as to think about it.
My thoughts are still unsure about this one. But..We'll see.
Never looking back, I continued walking down the empty streets of the city I once called home. The optimism disintegrated, and my purpose null. I had constantly questioned if it ever had to come to this, always wondering if there was a way actions could be reversed. But evidently, the path to what was once success has escaped yet again, and now I question my existence.
The cold winter air had struck upon me, my bones shivering and chattering towards its icy attitude towards me. I look down at my foot-paws, blistered and bleeding, as I had walked for miles without any shoes. I didn't really care for pain anymore, or for any emotion. The only single goal I had left to do in my short existence left on this pitiful world was to annihilate myself.
It's amazing how such a positive and great attitude can disappear in a short space of events. Unfortunate events that follow one after another, where it gets beyond bad luck, but it feels as if you were destined to forever live a lie, and to be trapped in the constant agony of depressing emotions. I look around, my eyes tearful, my paws shaped into fists. The city intoxicated with pollution and crime, the floors stained and filthy to the touch. I look to the left of me, seeing nothing but industrialism and hatred. To the right, I see an exact double of that, only with other inhabitants laughing and joking, making a mockery out of us. Showing how pathetic we all are.
Perhaps I'm jumping to wrong conclusions. Perhaps the only pathetic one is me. I mean, I had constantly kept up and performed with an attitude to contribute towards the better surroundings and lives of others, and yet I never cared about myself. Heavily drinking, taking drugs, hurting myself both psychologically and physically - It feels pitiful towards myself that I'm blaming others for the injustice in this world, when I never did anything myself to stop it.
Whimpering and hurt, I had finally gotten out of the industrial wasteland that people dare to call their home, and into the grassy fields. This air is clean; this air is rich with oxygen and life. I embrace the surroundings, never letting go of what life should be like, Nourishing, caring, and polite. It is a settlement of what a perfect life would be like, a life where worries can easily be solved, a life where problems are just simply a laugh, and where no matter what you do or who you become, it will all be okay.
But this is not that iconic dream that I long for. This is reality. This is what we have become, and this is what we will remain as. We are not symbolic of a perfect race. We are symbolic of a failure, a race that destroys the world that we inhabit, a race that cannot care for other emotions. Selfish, Needy and constantly begging for more, we are the downfall. The world is our oyster, but it also depends on us. And we shove it away, never thinking about the damage we are causing.
I had finally reached my destination by now, a bridge that links this beautiful field to another pollution filled industrial estate. The bridge was stone and old, its life span obvious as it was crumbling slightly, and yet it was still carrying the weight of the world on its shoulders, as I had tried to perform for myself too many times.
Below this old and rotting bridge was a river, a river that flowed freely and was yet to be touched by our filthy paws. Its colour crystal blue, shimmering in the essence of the moonlight that beamed down upon it. Smiling to myself now, I take a step up, and stand on the side of the bridge. I look down upon this beautiful creation, a tear freely flowing down the side of my cheek as I question how the world has changed so dramatically from a loved and symbolic atmosphere, to an atmosphere filled with failure, destruction, and corruption.
My body shivers as the winter air hits me once more, my fur standing on edge as I try to warm myself up, but to no avail. My goal and purpose had been set firmly into my mind, and I didn't want to let go of that now. I had tried. This world failed. I failed. It was not solely up to me to save this doomed planet, but it was up to me to at least make a significant contribution towards it. But my personal affairs and own selfish greed failed me, and failed my own motto of "Taking cares of others before myself."
I take a deep breath now, practically starting to hyperventilate as I embrace what I'm about to do. The water may have been beautiful, but it was also icy cold. My hot breath was visible in the night air as I took a final step to question my emotions, thinking if there was any other solution to end this turmoil. But I knew it was pointless. I had already run over dozens if not hundreds of solutions and scenario's in my head, and nothing could be fixed. This couldn't be fixed. I cannot be fixed. How can you fix a corrupted world, when your broken yourself?