Don’t you feel, don’t you ever feel, like your brain is just going to implode? Having things going through it, so many things, some useless, some interesting, some not even going to help you in life but you can’t help but think them. Seeing horrible things that you’ve seen only once, but that doesn’t stop them from bringing nightmares to your brain. Reading only 13 pages of a horror story and you’re already scarred for life by its words, by its horrifyingly addicting words that you just want to pry your eyes to over and over again. And when you go to take a shower and you remember those words, you must remind yourself over and over again that it’s just a story created by a man, just characters created by a man, as you create your own characters in your short paragraph stories that you can never manage to write. You don’t have enough will power. You’re determined to become an author but you’re not sure if you’re cut out for it, and you remind yourself that you’re just a child. Well, that doesn’t stop the adult thoughts browsing into your head, the morbid thoughts, wondering about religion, how your country, how the world will come to an end. Why has God brought you here? Why are you living in this body? Are you a soul controlling this form, can people see the way you do? Are you seeing the same body? The same face? Are you seeing the same shades in color? You can never tell, no, you can never tell until you die, and in death, oh my, what will happen to you there? Will you go to Heaven or will you go to Hell? Or perhaps Purgatory, yes, it’s quite blank there, I imagine. Or maybe there isn’t anything at all, you’re just buried beneath the center of the earth, no soul, no life, just a blank piece of corpse rotting away in the soil with the maggots eating away at your body that is no longer yours. And was it always yours? One can never tell. Are you insane, right now? How do you know these people can’t really hear your thoughts? How do you know this isn’t just some sort of drug induced dream? Do Angels really have sexes? And if they don’t, then why do they look like men?
Why do all men think they are the dominant gene? Why can’t people accept the differences of other people? They say that they’re not homophobic and yet their child sits at the corner of a street and cries for his parents, cries for her parents. It’s against the bible, but the bible’s just a book. These people follow a book that was written thousands of years ago by their savior’s followers. But was he really their savior? What is written isn’t always the truth. How do you know? How do you know? That’s the thing- you don’t know. But you want to know. You want to know so much, that it’s racing through your brain over and over again; you want to know the things man-kind is capable of. Others say repeatedly that the Holocaust couldn’t happen again, but you shake your head and say they’re wrong. Your country’s not a free country, for god’s sake; they’ve taken away marriage rights from citizens like yourself. You find it amusing how no one ever asks if you’re Bi-sexual, it’s always, “Are you gay?” And then you can say no and when they leave you smirk to yourself and call them an idiot under your breath. You’re thinking about moving to Sweden when you’re 18 because their country actually seems to know how to make people happy and be cute at the same time. Your mother’s voice pisses you off, along with when people stand behind you because you know that they can see what you’re typing. Paranoia’s not fun.
Why are we at war? Why do I feel racist whenever I see a black person now even though I know I’m not? I can’t say I’m proud of my German blood anymore without feeling like a total jackass because of WW2, even though I’m not related to a Nazi. German boys are hot, though. And now because you’ve written this whole damn thing, you feel like your entire brain is going to explode once more. Joyful.