He smiled at his good fortune. For even a person who was extremely bitter, the taste of ice cream still felt sweet. It was rather funny really; all his life he hated little things. He hated their existence. He hated how he would always notice them only to be dubbed as “observant” in a group of people whose existence didn’t concern him. He had so much hatred filled inside of him that it had started to ooze out. It didn’t really matter to him if people called him a cynic or useless for he knew his words held power. He knew that even without the course of any action, his words retained their power for they were often well thought out and meticulous but there were times when he spoke without thought.
Oh how he regretted those simple words he used to utter in his folly. He always tried to justify to himself that people should had understood him better but somewhere deep down in the shattered remains of his heart, he knew it to be nothing more than a bleak lie. Perhaps that was why people hated him so much. No one really bothered enough to take a stand for him, heck they didn’t even bother when he wanted to take a stand because for them, he was nothing more than a source of entertainment. An entertainer of sorts that they thought they controlled; someone who dedicated a good part of his life to certain puppeteers only to be churned aside like a filthy, torn ragged doll.
People always jeered at him. Some did it because they felt insecure in his presence while others did it as means of testing his limits. No matter what their reason was, he never cared. For him, the whole concept of society was nothing more than a sham. A sham orchestrated by the most cynical of composers in perfect unison. He wanted to stand up and play his own tune but every time that he tried, he was booed down and forced to sit.
He sighed as he took a spoon of the frozen chocolate dessert into his mouth. His luck was finally changing or so it seemed. It was rather funny to him how people used to smite him down, filling him with more hatred and then asking “Why are you so bitter?” He often responded the only way he knew how to: sarcastically but in his heart he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the words that escaped the confines of the prison that was his mind. He wanted to say he didn’t care about anything but he knew that would be nothing more than a lie. A lie, something which everyone around him excessively told as it was a necessity to feel alive. Each day they lied about their emotions, their feelings towards one another with a smile while he suffocated for the truth. Perhaps he had smoked so much poison that now even the cure to his diseases sounded nothing more than a pure fallacy i.e. another poison.
He licked the spoon like a kid as he stared at the ice cream before him. He wanted nothing more to do with people or big things anymore, for they had brought him nothing but pure agony. Even the sweetest of the heavenly delights of this earth had turned out to be nothing more than a sweet poison. Whatever he had touched in the past had turned to dust but today it was different. When he least expected it, when he had given up all hope, when he stared in the face of power cuts ranging for hours at a time, somehow his melted bowl of ice cream had decided to freeze once again. He could see the sun rising through his open window, life was good and hopeful once again… nothing could hurt him anymore for he had a whole liter of chocolate chip ice cream.