I'm all alone, but I'm surrounded by people who are just like me. Cold, damp and lifeless, they're the best people I could have ever met in all my life. Each headstone is an entire life, wasted and gone, just like mine is about to be. The cold wind blows. I close my eyes and breathe it in, the whispers of the dead in my ears. This feeling is the best. It is terrifying yet calming, knowing that my life is just as meaningless as the lives of the people before me. The proof is there, and no one can argue, that any life that's spent is wasted, as it can no longer be enjoyed. I sit down beneath a tree, beside an old friend of mine. Good old Rudolph Brown, who died in World War I. I pour him a cup of tea, and silently, he tells me about his day.
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An introduction to my mind
PoesíaI just feel like writing something right now A weird collection of thoughts and ideas I have whenever I'm alone. My thoughts and ideas are surprisingly difficult to put into words, so I apologize if the writing is a bit weak.
