Breathing is hard, has always been. A terrifying idea is that nobody has a answer to the reason why we exist, nobody knows if we were lucky or created spiritually, if it’s worth living, if it’s a blessing or a curse. If my thoughts are true and we all think it’s a curse because of humanity’s past/continued actions, or that the bad events of over lives are greater then good memories, then am I wrong to think that we have buried a hole too deep to see any light of satisfaction?

I’m going to pretend I’m special, that unlike everyone around me I see flashing images of demonic things, but the causes of the images is unknown. I now see a “Body floating on its back in the very bloody water, with the limbs loosely hanging in slightly. The background is a constant maroon color.” I then describe the person laying in the pool is me. Who was it for you? Were you imagining a black burnt corpse? Were you imagining that the body was dead?

I keep to myself, don’t speak to anyone about my visions. Am I wrong, was I born cursed, am I afraid of my self, are people afraid of what I am or what I will become? Am I perfect, was I supposed to exist like I am, do I have a purpose? Do I think I fit in the normal, am I just normal, am I not actually special. I am normal. I am weird, I am crazy, I am different, but I’m the same. But now it’s to late, the shovel I was given by humanity made the hole to deep. I fell to far, and now I’m not only drowning in society’s blood, but now my own.