Do you hear it? That endless hum, filled with laughter, songs, and carelessness? Everyone around is so bright, so cheerful, so… alive. They show their hobbies, their passions, the things that make them happy. Funny, youthful, naive. As if nothing in this world touches them. As if life is just a game, and they’re winning.

But I see. I hear. Beneath that noise lies the rumble of emptiness. That emptiness fills everything: their smiles, their eyes, their words. They show love, pride in their achievements, but… it’s a lie. A lie to drown out the screaming inside. The world is devouring them, and they’re devouring each other.

Pride, lust, envy—they flow through the veins of this world like filthy blood. Everything that seems warm, bright, or beautiful is supported only because it hides the rot. People want to see only what comforts them. But when you look beyond—beyond these fake decorations—you realize: this is hell. All of it is hell.

I wish I could be one of them. I wish I could laugh at jokes that seem stupid. I wish I could love something without noticing how it’s rotting from the inside out. But I see. I see what shouldn’t be seen. And what can I do about it? Nothing. All I can do is watch.

They think I’m gloomy, that I destroyed myself. But how can you destroy something that’s already broken? Every day I watch this performance, and all I can do is stand behind the curtain, where no one else wants to be.

Sometimes, I wonder: maybe I’m wrong? Maybe they truly are happy, and the problem is just me? But then the world opens its jaws again, and I hear that foul hum, see all the things they refuse to see. And I know: it’s not me. It’s them. But I… I am a part of them too. And that’s the worst part.