The more of you the merrier

Brought up into this endless pit of anguish. Stop telling me things get better because they obviously don't. There are moments when the sun shines bright, other than those short moments you are covered by clouds and lightning ready to strike you down like all the rest of the monsters inhabiting this earth. I do not see why things must be fabricated to each and every person. Something is always false when people speak to others these days. People hide things like the dirty deeds that they are ashamed of, thinking that if they bury them deep enough they will not ascend. Those things are ticking time bombs, just sitting there waiting to be detected. Once that thing is created, it can't just disappear. Those things cannot hide. They will be found. 

Don't fucking tell me everything is going to be okay. Each day something happens, something brings me down into that one fucking hole and it keeps getting deeper and deeper. Soon enough I'll touch the core. Then how fucking happy will you be, that part of it was your fault, responsible, for playing me.