EVERYTHING.

Everything. 
Everything.

I must do everything.

For if I don’t then who will?

It’s as they’ve always said: If you want something done right, you must do it yourself.

And yet, when I put these words into action they respond with cries. Screaming that it’s unfair. 

Screaming.
Screaming.
Screaming.

It’s all they do now.

I crave to return to times when a response was meant to be spoken. When camaraderie wasn’t just a fleeting wisp of legend.

But you did this, didn't you? It’s your fault.

Your fault.
Your fault.

It’s always been you. 

Try as I might, I cannot leave you. For I am nothing without you.

You wielded my strings and taught me how to dance. A mournful waltz with God as my partner.

God.
God.
God.

What is a God, exactly?

Such a thrilling concept, isn’t it? Something with absolute control. Absolute knowledge. Absolute existence.

It makes me sick just thinking about it.

I thought I wanted this. I thought if I could just get to this point everything would finally make sense.

And it did.

But the truth I saw was not the one I wanted. 

What do I want?
What do I want?
What do I want?
What do I want?

I don’t know.
I don’t know.
I don’t know.
I don’t know.