Why Is It Beautiful That Humanity Keeps

Once Again The Absurdity Of My Inner Thoughts Overwhelms Me, And I Want To Crawl Out Of My Skin, Escape My Ugly, Awkward Flesh And Be A Skeleton, Naked And Anonymous.

You Might Say That Death Has Relaxed Me.

I Don't Know... There's Something Kind Of Beautiful About It, Don't You Think? That We Keep Living And Growing Even Though Our World Is A Corpse? That We Keep Coming Back No Matter How Many Of Us Die?

I Can No Longer Believe In Any Voodoo Spell Or Laboratory Virus. This Is Something Deeper, Darker. This Comes From The Cosmos, From The Stars, Or The Unknown Blackness Behind Them. The Shadows In God's Boarded-up Basement.

Sometimes It's A Struggle To Live In The Moment.