Having A Freeze Response To Stress Is So Funny In The Context Of Normal Adult Stressors. Millions Of

I feel like neither a child nor an adult. I am a botched, failed creature, combining the worst qualities of each. All the helplessness and dependency of a child, with the cynicism and despair of an adult. My mind is stunted, malformed. My body outgrew me and now I wield it clumsily, hitting others with my overgrown arms as I stumble over my own feet. "I am sorry," I say, "But I was treated as something less than human and that is what I've become."

I identify as the void. Y'know, the one that tells you to swerve into oncoming traffic or step off a tall building? Yeah, that one.

Empty and destructive.

if I ever made it to the model catwalk, I would find some way to bring a sharp thing on set, and as I emerge, a thing of starved beauty and pure art, dramatically slice my own torso open, ribs exposed, guts splattering to the stage ground, blood spewing all over the front row guests, and most importantly, bleeding my useless life essence all over the expensive, artistic designer clothing I am made to show. A terrible display of art, to bleed as a pig does when sliced at the neck to please the human, the killer. What are we humans but showpieces of greed? May my blood be the color we lust for in the cold claws of winter.

You are never lost in the woods— you have walked in the dapple for too long to truly lose the way. Look to the moss-jowl oaks and you will find familiar faces grinning back, names you almost know. And the ivy slithers as it always has, as foreign-familiar in its formula as a phrase spoken into garble. You might forget, but the rumble of thunder knows the way as it climbs inside your lungs to shake once more. There is no place for certainty when wandering in the woods-- but step where other beasts have stepped, and you will walk assured.

So, what do you feel?

I am not a real human. I am infact, a glitch in the code.

but did they have to make coffins look so comfy?