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So this is just something I wrote one random day that I found laying around my house. It is obviously unfinished, and I don't plan to finish it, but I thought I'd upload this. I hope you enjoy.

Life is just another thing that happens. It comes, it goes, it leaves wounds behind to all except the dead inflicting the wound. That is why I do not fear death. I will leave my wound upon all who know me, but I will not hurt myself. By limiting my kindness to others I promise to leave a smaller, healable cut, on them, and I promise to not be injured by their death. We come and go and dig deeper and deeprer into this world, and one day when we can dig no deeper, when we have found the last way to destroy our world, we will look back and see our mistakes. But by then it will be too late, we will have pierced too deep a cut to heal, dug too deep a hole to fill, and that is when we must build something so huge that it will not sink into this hole, that it can cover up everything we have done. The faults, the injuries, the deaths, and what little good ther may be left. We wil start again from nothing with nothing, but one day whatever we may have built will sink into our hole just as eveything before it, and we will be reminded that two wrongs don't make a right. But by then the word "right" will simply be a direction and we will cover up our wrongs with more wrongs, our foolishness with more foolishness, lies with more lies. And I pity anyone who has to live in this time. And since I would much rather pity than be pitied, dying now before that time is not just a goodbye, it is a blessing.

Most peope hate me. In my eyes that os good. I will not leave scars. Another temparary goodness. Another wrong covered by a right. I know I make no sense. The world makes sense, it is us failing to comprehend it and interpreting it wrong. People whisper behind my back as I walk through the hall. I hear the usual insults, purposefully loud enough so it almost sounds like it was a mistake I heard them. Almost. I try to consume myself in my textbook as I sit donw in a desk int the back of the classroom. "Hercules to Caesar: The Fall of Greece to the Rise of Rome". Who comes up with book titles, I wonder. I imagine an old man with a ong gray beard, sitting at a desk crumpling up piecs of paer with things like: "The Stupid Greeks Attack Themselves and Bring Along Power Hungry Rome to Take Their Place", and "History doesn't matter when there's the future to worry about". No, I tell myself. These are titles I would give the books. History is my least favorite class, all it does is retell each generation of our own mistakes and how there is not possible chance at a bright future.

Hi guys! Thanks so much for reading this, I know it's not very good but if you would take the time to read my story "Somehow, Someway" by InfinityQuill it would mean a lot to me. It won't take very long to read because it's two, or three pages. Remember to vote and comment on both stories! Thank you!