You ever feel yourself burning alive? Recklessly peeling off your skin desperately trying to null the itch that seems to sink into your guts the further you tear away at your body? Because I keep seeing pieces of skin on the floor questioning whose flesh was lingering on the ground...But every time I stare into the mirror I see fragments of my own skull filling the voids—dotting my face like craters on Mars.
The doctor tells me I'm hallucinating, though. I keep telling them over and over that the itch won't go away but they keep drilling all these thoughts into my brain about it all being in my head. Trust nobody. Doctors and therapists think they're healing a better world but they're just creating more paranoid, cynical maniacs running rampant on their own doubts. They try and say they want to help get you out of the hole but all they do is snatch the shovel and help you dig deeper until you can't differentiate the light from the glint of a blade.
I told them. I told them it was coming. But they didn't believe me. They never believed me. All they did was strap me down and medicate me. Medicine is bullshit. It only nulls the itching. Never makes it go away. Medications are only a temporary solution to a lifetime problem, and once you run out of tranquilizers, that itch slowly crawls back until your nails start to fill up with dying skin cells and blood. Blood. I used to love the color red. But lately it starts to make me vomit. They said they'd help me. But nobody will ever be permanently okay.
This world will always be wicked. No matter how many murderers, psychopaths, sociopaths, and wicked people you kill or imprison—it'll never change how many wicked people can be born from good parents. No matter how reputable a person, they can still birth somebody so evil. We all have a little evil in us. Everybody does. There's that patch of evil so great that sometimes it can be our greatest motivation for something so small. Nobody's innocent. The world will never be cleansed no matter how many self-righteous manics try to preach and remove all the "bad people".
Hell is Heaven, and Heaven is Hell. Nobody in Heaven is innocent, and that "God" you all say is so "loving" is just an egocentric bitch with a god complex expanding wider than the concept of His existence. Or, "His" existence, to say. Heaven is full of hypocritical preachers—except for the select few unfortunate enough to not grow up to grasp the concept of wickedness. The ones who couldn't live to experience being human just yet.
It's the people who already know how meaningless everything in this world truly is that are killed. All those serial killers. Jeffery Dahmer, Richard Ramirez, Aileen Wurnos, Ted Bundy. They knew. They knew and saw the truest nature of mankind—and yet we watched as they rotted in prison, got electrocuted, injected, beaten. Sure, they committed crimes considered "taboo" amidst these "bounds" we've created, but do these bounds really exist?
Everything is a concept created by humans to give meaning. We're nothing but a speck in this universe driven to give something meaning. Laws, morality, rules, karma, taboo. They're all concepts. They don't truly have a meaning. These "laws" that bind us to a good morality don't exist. They're meaningless. Void. They were created because the true nature of mankind is wickedness. War, pestilence, famine, death. That is something that will always taint us. No matter how much of a "saint" we try to act, all those sins will remain in us. Wrath, gluttony, pride, sloth, greed, lust, envy. They linger in our conscious. The deepest part, the truest patch of us—they linger. No amount of prayer will purify us. We will not be saved.
We cannot be cleansed. We have, and will always be tainted with wickedness, until the very end.
