S*** happens…but when does it stop? I know many have worse than I do. I know I have better than most. For certain instances, I’d rather set myself ablaze for it would bear less pain. There were many moments in my life I’ve felt that. There will be many more to come. No one understands what it is to be me. I maintain that I don’t need or want that. To see into my mind, to feel into my heart, and to touch my soul is to throw oneself into an abyss. I refuse to let anybody fall with me. For what I need and for what I want is my drive, of the hope to obtain such things that keeps me going. Yet how could hunger and starvation be what fuels me? I fall into a paradox and am lost in my thoughts of what others wouldn’t have to think of. This is my sorrow and this is my struggle of the eternal wars that engulf my sanity in a mixture of confusion and contradictions. I am stronger than most for having to endure the unendurable and bear the unbearable and crawl over the crystal shards and color it crimson with my blood in the darkness and in the unseen.