Writing

It’s when you can’t tell if you’re in reality or just dreaming.

You’re unresponsive and can barely talk or move and you’re in physical pain.

You’re so tired and it hurts to breathe.

You can only breathe in deep, shallow breaths.

You can’t hear anyone, let alone any outside noise.

All you can hear are the terrible thoughts running through your head.

Everything starts to get blurry and you start crying. Sobbing, actually.

You don’t even know why you’re crying.

Nothing makes sense.

You’re all alone.

And it feels like death.

I have just come to the conclusion that,

I am loved.

And so many people care about me.

But I have never felt

so

alone.

I have come to the conclusion that everything is so fragile.

Even the strongest river, the tallest mountain, the largest ocean are fragile.

Even Earth itself is fragile.

At the hands of humanity, it all could be ruined.

  I do fear it. I fear the damnation of life itself.

I do not fear Death, but what comes after it.

Is there nothing? Is there a Heaven or Hell?

They are both simple excuses for what people fear. The unknown.

  It is like being afraid of the dark.

Not afraid of the dark itself.

But the monsters that lives and thrives inside a shadow.

  It is so complicated, except when you really look at it, it is quite simple.

It is life.

In the stale heat of the day, my darkness grows. I inhale, sucking the energy from the living things around me. It feels as if a switch has been flipped. For the first time in awhile, I feel alive. I flex my hands. Purple sparks of dark energy fly off the tips of my fingers.

I’m not sure what happened, but one night I got a call from a random number. I didn't pick up, but they left a voicemail. The voicemail was a song. No, not a song, music. Being played on by a piano. It was simple, but deep. It was beautiful, but at the same time, grotesque. Bone chilling. It was simply… amazing. And for the minute it was playing, it made me happy.

And maybe tomorrow I won’t wake up because it was a warning. A warning from a murder that likes to play with his victim's minds before he attacks. And I won’t wake up tomorrow, because they found me. It found me. Or maybe someone just accidentally called me.

I have secrets.

More than you'd think.

We all do.

Would you like to know one secret?

From the most deepest,

most darkest,

part of my mind?

Sure.

But only one.

People,

human beings,

most of them,

think life is a game,

a big game of show and tell.

No.

That's not what I think.

Would you like to know what I think?

Another secret?

Okay.

But just one.

Life,

isn't show and tell.

It's finding,

being amazed,

exploring.

The simplest things,

like music,

sweet, pure music,

is worth listening to.

Worth making living worth it.

Want me to let you in on one more thing?

Fine.

But this is it,

I mean it.

If you were like me,

which I hope you're not,

you would think,

that life is like a chessboard.

And death?

Well,

Death is but another adventure,

The mind,

has no limits.

Not one.

The mind,

is possibly,

the most beautiful,

and powerful thing,

to be a master of.

Not because of its physical appearance.

No.

But what goes on inside,

the mind.

Grotesque,

explosive,

but simply,