The Alternative

Untitled Part 2

At That Moment I Ran Around Like A Young Boy That Had Just Torn His Shirt,Looking For A Sewing Kit, Hoping I Could Sew The Vein That I Had Slit Back Together. All Of My Past Problems Now Seemed Toddler Throwing Tantrums BecauseHis Father Could Not Afford To Buy Him A Toy Car, But It Was Done, I Was Now Stuck In This Place. The Alternative Was No Better .   

    I sat alone silently, on my very own wooden bench. I thought that in the end it would be me and my demons but I was wrong. All of my demons had been absorbed by the microphone at my very first poetry slam. I was used to being alone. I had not encountered any new experiences in this place. In my past life I had always enjoyed watching the fire, hoping that somehow it would burn in unison with the fire that was inside of me. How ironic, the only real company I have left was this piece of wood, strategically combined to make a sitting tool. Me and my wooden gun, defending ourselves, but I knew that I would not be in this place forever. My sins were not eternal so how could the punishment be? Even life was not eternal so how could death be? After all of this I still had a sense of hope. All dualities exist together and I understood that concept very well. In this place none of my philosophies existed, we had no use for them. I understood that philosophy was just a substitute for knowledge. Here we were  spiritual beings with no countless number of religions trying to teach us the difference between the wrong and the wrong.