None of it worked for me. I first tried buddhism, it was depressing. I tried Christianity, every prayer made things worse. I've tried witchery, the spells work, but the point of life is unanswered. I've tried many religions, they all look so colorful, but when given the spotlight; they tend to fail.
I've given up. I don't follow common religion. I follow nothing, living my life of theories. My most referred to theory, I mostly believe when dead, we are simply an unoperating organism experiencing nothingness.
I Used To Dream
"I used to dream," the old man would say. The employees never cared. They're here for a paycheck, "Okay Sir, would you like some water," they would say. The old man would let go of their arm, realizing again and again nobody cared. I've watched this man, from time to time. I lay curiosity on his life, but the medicine numbs him of his past to the best it can. The water offered by employees is roofied with K/O meds. The other elders fear him, he gets crazy at the most random times. "I used to dream." That's his starting sentence every time. Nobody cares to hear the rest, nobody wants his knowledge or wisdom. I was once asked to fill the water and drop the med, to which I secretly didn't. I watched him carefully. He rolled his wheelchair to a certain window, a window nobody ever gaped. With it's awkward view of the graveyard, where these men and women knew they will be moved to very shortly. He looked to a specific spot, nowhere else in the graveyard. Sometimes I want to let him free, watch where he flies, but like all others; I'm here for a paycheck. Losing this job, and I have to move out of town. So I stay posted, watching the old man wonder in a world of lonely depression. I've even gone through his paperwork, a very noble man. Was once a MLB player, served in the military, lots made him out to be an American hero. I would rest my case on he is sad to be forgotten, but the puzzle pieces still fail to make a picture. He had a wife, they entered this home together with locked hands. She died a week after, put into the certain area the old man always watches. That doesn't quite solve his absence of dreaming, though. After his gawk to the window he rolled into his own room. I wanted to give him space, but I was told to pull him back out here. I'm here for a paycheck. I strolled into his room, this place I've never seen before. He had pictures hung up, what seemed to be his kids and grandkids, whom never shown up. Two weeks after he entered, I was put in charge to inform them of their accident; putting them all to an end. They were not in the graveyard, they were mistaken for a hitman, burned alive and pushed down a swamp beach. I, of course, didn't tell him their causes of death to that such detail, he just knows they're deceased. He has a daughter, still alive, but she's been in a federal prison for assisted suicide many years before this man came here. The old man, sitting in his room, would gawk wilted flowers. Given to him by, I believe, a friend from his military squad. He looked at it as if he had a dream, a dream which he never had of will fulfill. I told the old man he must go back to the main room, to which he unlocked his wheels to be pushed. I pulled the wheelchair back, to which he whispered things I pretended to not hear. "I failed my men." "I've lost my family." "My goal is unreachable."
"Boy, I used to dream."
Looking For Help
~"but Doctor! I can't just sleep through it!"
–"Again, you must be patien-"
~"Patient?! My dreams were put on hold for an advertisement! It literally said 'so look for bug-X! Your bedbugs are guaranteed to move out, now back to the dream!'"
–"Maybe you just have a problem. Would like to be prescribed some medicine?"
~"What? Are you even a Doctor?"
–"Of course! I took a class for a whole week to get this damn lab coat!"
~"You never even solved my acid reflux last time I was here. You just rushed me to the hospital for a concussion."
–"Your eye did some weird twitchy thing, I was alarmed. Here, just take this medication. One will help you sleep like a log, the other will keep the termites away!"
~"... You're trying to kill me Doctor."
Two nights ago I had a dream I was eating at a Mexican restaurant with family. It was actually warm and sunny outside, so we ate on the outdoor seats, with the umbrella over us and all. I went inside to use the bathroom, when I noticed the whole building looked oddly lonely. The lights were dark, and many things looked abandoned. I walked into the lonely bathroom, and opening the stall a Mexican zombie attacked me. The thing was powerful by all means.. I kicked it as hard as possible, slamming the stall and escaping for my life. I walked to the register to report the little problem.
As I rung the bell, dozens of Mexican zombies came from the kitchen. I climbed windows, threw Mexican zombies into cooking equipment. Long story short, I finally killed all the Mexican zombies.
I walk back outside to my family, when I see them all laid back, stuffed with food. I looked at my plate and someone ate it too. They were all ready to leave, and I was PISSED because I wanted Mexican food.
I was then awoken by my alarm clock. I told my parents I'm going to be late for school. I then paced in my room for a whole hour getting myself to calm down, because I was still irritated and pissed about them eating without me.
-An adventure fighting your way to be on time for class. Be sure you make it immediately before the bell rings.
-Breaking out of a historic prison.
-A bully chasing you, trying to take your homework.
-A food that desperately does NOT want to be eaten.
-Or make something really small very dramatic in a funny way. Like a boy saying the ground is lava, and when he jumps shit explodes on landing impact.
You will probably end up going with an idea you made up yourself, but either way, good luck!!