Number

- I´m tired.

- Of what?

- This.

- Specify.

- Don´t have to.

- Just tired?

- Words being thrown in the air like feathers. No answer. Nothing. You are invisible. No matter what you do, no matter what you say. When you realize you are not special that your efforts are in vain that you are just another number.

-Are you drunk?

- No.

- Quit that bullshit, will ya?

- Tired of people. Tired of humans, those stupid animals that believe they worth something. They are flesh and blood like everybody else, still… I´m just tired to believe people can change, tired to believe people can see others, and treat others as they´d liked to be treated. I´m tired of my hope. Tired of my dreams. Tired of my beliefs. Tired of this feeling, this empty feeling that will never go away, no matter what I do, no matter what I say, It will be there forever, waiting, wanting, welcoming, cold, till I succumb to my very own misery. I want to take off this mask. I just want to take off this mask. My real me is so scary. The mask is so pretty.

- What do you really want?

- What everybody wants. Happiness.

- You know it´s hard, don´t you?

- If it was easy life would be worthless. Is there a secret?  To be happy. Is there a secret?

- I don´t think so.

- I wish there was. But I´m a number. Nothing else. A number only.