PopulousThroughout my life, I'd always proclaimed my utter hatred for the human race: 'I hate everyone', or something like, 'There are no good people. I had developed such a variance of terms and phrases to describe the feeling. I'd believed that at its core: People sucked. Mostly not even to a personal extent; more or less the entirety of human beings as a whole. War and famine ran rampant over third world countries whilst the first world societies whined and complained about dwindling resources and maintaining absolute control over the populous. It was a spectacle, really. People bustling about to feed their gut with money and drugs, either or people running a muck with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
But where did yours truly fit into the whole equation? What tier of societal presence did I sit upon in the game of life; success or failure? That was the true question, I suppose. What was I in the plot of humanity? Had I succumbed to the words of fal