I don’t care

Do you ever look at someone and have that little flash of violence in your brain? It’s like this little blood stain, just an insignificant drop on a white sheet that slowly spreads and spreads until there’s nothing to see but red. You can’t do anything, you can’t say anything, because if you do, you’re going to end up taking them by the hair and smashing their face into a pane of glass.

You want to watch them shatter like a china doll. You want the crunch like porcelain, but you know it will be even better because it’s bone. Maybe you dream about it. Maybe it’s a flicker on your conscience burning like a match under your brain until you want to take your own head and hit it against something until the blood starts to pound and congeal at the base of your neck where all that rage rests.

But you don’t do anything. You go home and you go to sleep. 

They talk and talk. It’s broken, filtering in through all the polluted thoughts. I make the right expressions, the proper vocal responses; a sigh here, a “well” here or there… You tell me your everything. All of you. Over and over. And you just don’t get it, do you? Can’t you feel my apathy? Can’t you see my face? Now here’s the thing…

I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! 

I don’t careIdon’tcareIdon’tcareIdon’tcareIdon’tcare. 

Why should I care about you when you don’t care about me? Why should I listen to you spew more stupidity and more emotional vomit than I care to? Why should I? Why? 

I pretend. I lie. It’s what I’m good at. You say you hate selfishness. But why don’t you take a close look at yourselves? It’s you you you you. Always. And you wonder why there’s creatures out there like me who feel nothing but hate and rage. I listen and listen and get nothing in return. I don’t even bother to tell you about me anymore, because I know you don’t care to hear it. I won’t burden you with my vitriol, because I refuse to waste my words on ingrates. You’re too stupid to understand, and I realize now that that is okay. You’re supposed to be stupid, sweetheart, it’s what makes us different. It’s what makes me a monster and you the fodder. 

Yes, that’s right. You with all your bravado and bullshit, you’re just prey. 

How does that feel?

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