"The inside was golden. There had to be some dark part. Something an ugly kind of beautiful. The people, the world, my voice…it would all be distorted and fucked up."
Flurries fall over and over, crashing into each other. People don’t do that. They never fall after each other.
Why are we always compared to fucking snowflakes? It can’t possibly be that we’re all unique enough to change the world. Or that we can all make the world so goddamn beautiful. It doesn’t work that way. People don’t work that way and things are always uglier on the inside.
So, why was that goddamn house so radiant with adoration? I was looking in from the outside. They were all so fucking happy to just be with each other. There had to be something wrong. Some fault. Probably on me…it’s all just bullshit what I say anyway.
The inside was golden. There had to be some dark part. Something an ugly kind of beautiful. Something to make my beliefs true. If I happened to be wrong…what the hell could I do about it? It would all fall on me. The people, the world, my voice…it would all be vague and fucked up.
It would all be my fault.
It was all my fault.
And they looked so fucking blissful.
How could I fix it? What could I do to be like them? To feel, to love…to simply be without the trauma of the people around me, sucking my life dry.
Sympathy is not why I’m here. I don’t want your mercy dances. I just want that hollow that you call your heart.
To be without a heart is to die without death.
And that’s why I’m here. To die. To pass the agonizing time away. Whittle down to nothing. Until they’re nothing. Melt away…killed by summer’s spirit.