Is writing /soc/? I was shorted in life… one way or another

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Is writing /soc/?

I was shorted in life… one way or another something always came up short; this layoff is just another shortage in the story of my life. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t expecting it. The whole town had been waiting for it to come, like a train wreck, or a dead body that we all just couldn’t wait to see. It was fueled by a curiosity that simple resolution couldn’t solve. Only being a part of it could satisfy that craving. Everyone had a chance to quit and go somewhere else. Yet we all stayed, knowing we’d lose our jobs. The biggest reason for staying was that we hoped to make it through. When the truth is, we couldn’t resist seeing who didn’t make it. To say it was anything less than masochism would be a lie. To call it anything more than sadism wouldn’t be wrong though. It wasn’t a matter of if simply when, when was it going to happen. I knew what I wanted, others could be in denial but I know what I want. I want to watch it burn; I want to be the catalyst and kick off the best damn show this shithole ever saw. Let’s burn with a flame bright enough for everyone to watch. For everyone to stop. For everyone to fuel. If this world belongs to us, and if we want it beyond a morbid curiosity then the flames that brighten our lives will subside and we will drift into a deeper level. Skulking away in our rarest form. Let me be the one to break you lord and show you another type of light.