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He felt totally helpless: there were all his obligations that had to be filled, regardless of his personal struggles, and regardless of the fact that all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and hide. In the next room he could hear the idiotic ramblings of his flat mate, and it all just made him angrier. Mortality was a cruel bitch that everyone had to deal with, and his time was now. But at the top of his brain was the fact that some people didn’t grow up with the same values he did. One of those being the fact that it just made sense to close the bathroom door after you’d taken a shit.

He was tired of smelling other people’s shit, dealing with the lesser things and people in life, and being bullied by mortality.

The problem was that he didn’t know what to do about it.