Am I a bad person?
I think I'm a bad person.
I know I'm a bad person.
NO.
I am a bad person.
I have mentioned before that I think and think and think about something I think will happen that it may—no, it will—happen.
And I mentioned before that all I think and think and think about is the thought of darkness, of hate, of crime, of atrocities... of death.
And I mentioned before that I fear those thoughts and my mind for the things that they can create, that they can do, that they can impact.
I recently had a thought.
The thought of war is what races through my mind, something we are actually in the brink of. I think about the excitement it creates, all the stories—oh, the magnificent stories!—and the drama it will bring that can shake up our mundane, ordinary lives.
Oh, the stories! The inspirational stories, the traumatic stories, the lively stories, the depressing stories, the romantic stories, the heart-wrenching stories! My God, my mouth drools at the excitement of war.
Of terror.
Of victory.
Of loss.
My God!
I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON!
I need to go to help—NO!—confession—NO!—hell.
Yes, that's where I belong.
Hell.
.
.
.
.
.
Fear #4: My last fear.
The fear of myself.
YOU ARE READING
A Prose With No Direction
SpiritualA prose with no direction. A mind with no guidance. A human without a purpose. That is the kind of story I hate to be. That is the kind of story I, unfortunately, am.
