T’was a morning, like any other, I was under the assumption that I was going to die. It had been fun, years before. Stylish, even, to have such thoughts. But recently the feeling has been quite real… and there’s nothing funny at all about reality, save for the puns that we distilled from it… insanely.
I was within myself, and that has never been too good.
So I fixed myself some hot milk and got out of the house to face the elements, to the dismay of my inner system. Fear pressed in and I was contemplating a turn to surrender.
But when I looked up to see the road that I would have left, I saw faces, worn out, some were weary of life, young and old alike, walked towards me, seemingly fueled by the morning’s passion.
I never really like people, my hatred towards the evil within them outweigh my understanding of myself.
But the sun was reflected upon their faces, their movement, the energy to fulfill whatever reasons of existence they might perceived and assumed, burned something in me.
Such an ungrateful bastard I have been.
Still, God has created me, if only I perfectly understand how to live…