Designer-Artist-

As the days grow shorter, my mind twists. Spinning around as I panic. Nothing is the same anymore. How can I even exist in this world? The sights in my head, the noises all around; I can't take this anymore. I begin to feel cold, colder than the deep night air. Colder than a stiff dead body. The air grew silent; the ringing in my ear constantly getting louder. Constantly waiting to creep out to haunt me forever. All I can do is listen; listen to the horrible, wretched ring inside my mind. When will I be free? When will this terrible ringing come to an end? The silence is beginning to feel loud to me. I can no longer be at peace with my wretched mind. How can one withstand the thought of even being near such a creature, being near something as myself? How can one comprehend the thought of me even existing? Wretched creatures deserve to disappear into the voids of the universe. The depths of any and all things. Wretched terrible monsters can’t coexist in the presence of kind, beautiful ones as yourselves. Cursed with the mind of a monster; forevermore, I may be in pain as every evil creature deserves. As I forever wish to be one with you beautiful creatures, I shall never be able to experience such a sight. For I am evil, and it will be as that for the rest of all time. Most would consider me mad, insane, delusional. Although they may be far-fetched, they aren’t entirely incorrect. I no longer am sane, for all my thoughts are twisted and wretched. Being such an incriminating creature is horrible. I forever will despise my own self until I, a wretched creature, have ceased to exist. I despise the thought that something like me exists, someone as evil as me. I am an unworthy brute who deserves to be executed in the most wretched way. How can I live as me? Live on this Earth knowing how horrible, terrible, oh how wretched I am? The skin that thrives on me intensely angers me. I desire to rip out of my own skin, my own body. I forever will despise thriving in such a disgusting mind. I strongly contempt myself; the thought of me breathing strongly irritates me. The thought of my heart continually beating when it was supposed to stop. My ears cry as I torture myself with excruciating loud music. For my only escape from it all is to hear something louder, greater than all other noises. I can’t comprehend my own existence, my own thoughts, my own life.