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>This story may seem slightly uninteresting at first, but lots of book start off like that. When I read Harry Potter, I was uninterested until around the second, third chapter. This story says a lot about how human thought processes work, but it is also great for the thrill seeking adventurous book reader, such as myself. If you have any form of depression, this should interest you greatly.<

Corra walked, briskly, down to the bay. It was getting late, but time was going ever so slow. It was as if something was slowing it, purposefully making all clocks around her tick slower every time, one second intervals, then two seconds, three, and so on. The time could've just stopped, and no one would know. No one would have noticed. No one would have cared. Corra sighed as she walked to the water's edge. She felt something heavy on her shoulders, yet nothing was there. All the world's weight could've been equally dropped onto everyone, and no one would know. No one would have noticed. No one would have cared. She sat down on the rock hanging over the clear, crisp looking ocean water. Her rock. She sat on it all the time. If it had been removed, no one would know. No one would have noticed. No one would have cared. Except Corra. Corra knew when something happened. Corra noticed the slightest change. And Corra cared. She only wished she knew the truth about the machine. The machine controls everyone, what they do, how they act, their emotions. The machine controls your life. If the machine stopped working, everyone would be dead. This thing, this machine in all of us. It is so necessary to human existence, yet it is hated, so far, and so widely. It can be overridden, or it could malfunction. It is as fragile as the human mind. Corra slowly took off her shoe and dipped her foot into the cool, blue-green water. It splashed gently across her skin. If the ocean stopped splashing, no one would know. No one would have noticed. No one would have cared. Corra sat up on the rock, drawing her moist foot back up onto the rock, and hugged her legs gently against chest. The machine was a small yet powerful impact on everyday life, which is what should soon be proven. But Corra hadn't noticed that yet. She laid back on her rock and sighed. This was all her life would come to. She would never do anything interesting, and all her life would be wasted away, with her never accomplishing anything. She reached her hand out as she watched the first stars of the night appear. Something else was out there. Just beyond the reach of her hand. Yet she would never achieve that. It would always be just beyond reach. She would never become famous. She didn't want to become famous. Fame was like an ocean wave. It starts out small, and way out there, then it slowly drew up, closer and closer. When it finally hit the peak, it didn't seem to be enough. But when it came to a close, it usually either died out quickly and unnoticeably, or it ended with a large crash, affecting other people, and most definitely themselves. Corra steed as more stars appeared in the sky, which was slowly darkening. Everyone knew about the machine. No one knew how it worked. No one knew how exactly it controlled us, how it was implemented into our lives, and how it made us who exactly we are. No one knew. No one noticed. No one cared.

>I promised I'd add this in, so here is my original bio.<

~I'm an insane addict when it comes down to any of these things- Twenty Øne Piløts, anime, Harry Potter, books of any kind, Portugal the Man is pretty cool, sleep, and how my kid works. Really, I cannot change the fact that I think about that. My mind. It is a very interesting thing. It can help you in certain situations, but sometimes, it can make you wish you'd never been alive in the first place. Me, I don't want to live. I also don't want to die. I wish that after we died, we stayed dead. For a couple of years, at least, or more. Like sleeping for many many decades, centuries even, millennia if it is so. I believe that after the world goes dead, and the universe as we know it dies along with it, everything happens again. There is another Big Bang. There is another creation of life, and resources, and everything happens again. Everything happens just the way it did. No matter what, everything happens the same exact way, no matter what you do or say, it has happened in the past, and it happens again. Kind of like separate dimensions, but all in chronological order. And no one will find out, unless it happens in the future, after today. After tomorrow. Whenever it happens, if it does so. I've realized something. When we die, we are gone. Jus completely gone. Nothing else happens, unless my filthy, confusing and unrealistic belief happens. We just die, and we can never get ourselves back. Ever. We are just gone, and there is absolutely nothing we can do about that. I am particularly proud of my piece of writing, The Machine Inside Us, because it directly addresses these thoughts. I enjoy thinking like this, unless my mind is in a state of common and overwhelming sadness, otherwise known as my depression. Many nights I've wasted time lying on my bed, crying until no more tears will come, thinking about how I don't want to die, but I don't want to live, and I really don't know what I do want. It does t really help, the fact that I am in complete love with, or basically together with, @JCaravan. She is the best thing that, so far, has ever happened to me. It doesn't help my depression that half my family basically are homophobics. Yes, I be a female. Follow her, as she wishes the same upon me. My stories, as I believe, are very detailed and interesting, and address a lot of what goes on in my head. If you have read all of this, please leave a post on the conversations tab. I am very impressed with you. Stay alive for me guys! |-/~

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 07, 2016 ⏰

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