The Lie Of Living

I grew up in a damaged household. A mother who felt distain for the future the moment she laid eyes upon me and a father who shared her ideals. I was cattle, I was trapped. I had a younger brother named Noah, we were polar opposites, perfect juxtapositions to one another. If he was day, I was night. If he was the sun, I the moon. If he was heaven, I was hell. My brother always was smiling, oblige to the world around him. He thought life was all sunshine and rainbows. He lived by an idea, an idea that no quote-on-quote evil exists within this world, all which is perceived bad has been contaminated or damaged and can be redeemed. A childish fantasy really. If evil only occurred due to contamination it suggests something contaminated it. Be it its surroundings, upbringing, people. These things would be perceived as evil right as they have contaminated the pure which proves evil exists, evil that exists for no reason, evil with no direction. Such as my brother I live by my own ideals, the ideal of nihilism and existentialism. Nihilism is the belief that nothing in this world has meaning behind it, it exists without cause, without direction. Meanwhile existentialism is the questioning of humans existence as whole, there's the chance we were made for a reason but what could that reason be, that is existentialism. Many would perceive my beliefs of cynical but I would challenge their view of me as I see myself as quite optimistic. If I believe that we were made with purpose, it is very clear humans have strayed from that purpose millenia ago and if this life we live is the purpose we were born for then what purpose is that. When you believe nothing has true meaning, you believe in free will, you believe you can make your own purpose and direction. That's how I perceive it anyway, I'm not cynical. In childhood it was always a competition for my brother, a competition to who can gain the most love and attention from our parents. I was never too crazy for my mothers and fathers approval as their approval to me meant as much as approval from a stranger but to my brother their approval meant being better then me. He'd always shove it down my face, "Haha! I got this and you didn't!". I wonder if he too is loud to cover up his thoughts like someone I know. I doubt it. My mother always seemed scared of me since I was a young age. I have no idea the reason for this for she is the author of everything I am yet she detests me so. My father frequently punishes me for not being 'optimistic' enough, the usual is normally a hot rod if I'm lucky. I've always been aware my family dynamic has been peculiar, I just didn't know to what degree. I wonder if I was brought up elsewhere, would things be different. If things were different, would it even matter, would I even care, would I be the same?

Beep Beep Beep. It's a Saturday morning meaning I have to do charity work for experience. Beep Beep Beep. I hate alarms. I hurridely get ready and set off to work. I arrive at the place but I'm half an hour late, this is going to be such a drag. I walk from the shop floor upstairs to stow away my belongings. While I'm upstairs I can sense this feel of being watched, I slowly to turn and bestow my eyes upon a short, arabian and angry girl. I wonder what's got her so pissed.

"Hey you!" She screamed. I looked around the room as if anyone else was there but there wasn't, she was addressing me.

"Yes?" I anxiously tremble the words out of my mouth. Her eyes feel like a predators claws, I can feel her presence engulfing me whole.

"You're late. We don't like lateness." She snaps at me, "Take this broom! It's time to make yourself useful!" She says to me. I shrug it off. Some people are so weird nowadays.

I wonder what her story is. I wonder what has her so riled up. I begin to sweep up the shop floor but my interaction with that girl is circling around my head. Was my lateness what provoked her to this degree? Surely not. I didn't want her to be angry at me. I didn't want her to feel anything towards me. Yet she was angry at me, funnily enough the first time I feel as if someone had noticed me. An emotion dedicated and focused upon me. I dislike her. She's made me feel a negative way towards her yet I believe nothing matters so therefore she shouldn't matter. Yet I feel the need to hate this woman. She's an anomaly and paradox to my ideology, to my sense of being. Has my entire life been a lie? Perhaps. They say through love you can find meaning, I never used to believe that nonsensical crap but she'd made me feel something. I don't feel attracted to her but she is a girl so maybe if I try to love her maybe I might see this world that my brother envisions.

When my shift was over I went towards this girl in pursuit of finding happiness within my life. My hands were beginning to sweat. I was never good at speaking to strangers.

"Hey," I quietly said towards her.

"Hey whats up?" She said, her aggressiveness had faded away.

"I was just-" my lips quivered, I couldn't speak anymore, I wasn't built for such interactions.

"I'm sorry." She said. I was confused, what was she apologising for?

"What?" I asked.

"I'm sorry..?" She said again.

"I don't get it? What are you sorry about?" I asked in response.

"I'm sorry about before silly, I shouldn't have snapped at you. I had no right, it's just that this means a lot to me and when people just treat if like its nothing I just-" She said. I could tell she was now getting anxious due to her stumbling on her words.

"It's fine, I didn't care about your tone before. That's not what I meant. As in. It's fine, it's okay, I understand what you mean." I stumbled.

"Ahah good then, to make it up to you do.you want to go grab a bite to eat?" She giggled.

"Sure!" I said ecstatically. In the movies I watched this normally meant the girl wanted the guy, which means I'm on the right path right?

"Oh I should also mention I don't mean in it a romance way, I've got a boyfriend. I mean in a friends way, you just seemed lonely." She said.

Who is she to pity me? What am I? Some lost puppy? I don't care anyway. For my plan it doesn't require her to love me, just for me to love her so I can see the world in rose-coloured glasses. We walked to a local cafe and we sat at a table near the glass door.

"It's such a beautiful day today, wouldn't you agree?" She said while admiring the sky. I looked outside and the sky was grey, the steelworks which wasn't so far away was emitting a huge puff of black smoke which poisoned the city. Me and her see the world very differently.

"Yeah, we don't really get days like this," I lied.

"Mhm!" She smiled, "My name is Aisha, what's your name? Sorry for not asking aha."

"My name is Salvador but everyone calls me Sal." I lie. No one calls me Sal. I just don't want he to cal me the name my parents gave me. Why's this? Perhaps some pety form of rebellion.

"So Sal, what's got you down?" She asks me.

"Huh."

"Sal, what's wrong?" She asks me.

Am I dreaming? I know I'm not the most outgoing person don't get me wrong but are these how conversations normally go? I have to be dreaming. My own mind is trying to make me open up to myself. Does this mean just looking at Aisha has changed me? Love is so easy. No infact, no way I can be dreaming. I'm not deranged.

"What's wrong? Nothing really. I mean I guess you were right before, I'm kind of lonely." I say. I want her to offer to be my friend so I can grow my bond with her and eventually love her, be it a friend way or a 'silent' way.

"I feel you, I was once lonely too," She says while still staring out the window.

"You was? But you're so outgoing," I say astonished.

"Mhm I have to be. If I'm not then who would want to interact with me." She says still looking into the sky.

"I don't follow? Who wouldn't want to interact with you?" I ask.

"Sal, I'm different."

"Different?"

"Yeah, different."

"Huh?"

"I don't belong anywhere, I live here in England but I'm not of English heritage. These people don't want to accept me. My people, family, myself are here but are we wanted here? So since I couldn't find comfortability, relatibility or even belonging in this culture I looked towards my own. I'm not saudian arabian enough for them either, I didn't grow up with them, I don't have the same accent or upbringing. I exist in the middle, I exist alone."

"That's deep." I say, I don't know how to respond. Damn, I'm so not good at social interactions.

"Shit I'm sorry! I shouldn't have dumped that all onto you, I'm so so so sorry. Please forgive me. Man I'm a mess today-" She hurridely says.

"It's fine honestly, hearing that helped me understand myself a little bit better." I say.

"It did?"

"Mhm, would you like to be friends?" I ask.

"Oh em gee! Yes! I'd love to be friends" She responds.

We exchange numbers and order our food at the cafe. I'd say today has pretty much been a success. I've earned a ticket to the world others see. I have no choice now but to charge on into the vanguard.