sol-the-ninja

My skin feels so uncomfterable. So uneasy. I don't belong here. Yet I feel so at home. So tranquil. These aren't my friends. This isn't my beautiful house. That's not my computer. That isn't my mother. I need more. I need to shake off this outer shell. The disgusting body, writhing and itching underneath the skin. It needs to stop. I have to make it stop. I can't breathe. Someone stole my air. Where is the door? Where is some escape? No. I have to fight it this time. No longer can I use my escapes. Drugs, knives, other peoples lives. I see now! In the state of my madness, where soul meets body meets absolute chaos, I see the truth! I see the

The perfect weapon: love. It shatters the hearts of the hardest men. Makes the coldest woman on earth melt like middle school girl. It makes the most cowardly man run to the ends of the earth. It makes the most prideful person, get down on his knees in public, just to show his love. It makes brave men and fools of us all. It intoxicates life. Even after death it prolongs. And it is so well disguised; so well HIDDEN! It decieves every person infected, so they long for, they crave, they desire, only more of it. They, in irony's honesty, love it. Love will be the fall of man. Love will be the womans bane. And do we hide? No. We embrace it. We