My eyes strained to take in my surroundings, the view was one I have seen millions of times, one bright light forever burning my face and complete darkness surrounding that ever scorching light. I cant escape it and yet I have tried so many times. Where I am has no sound, only faint groans which come and go. It is complete solitude and I crave company, “too much thinking” “I’m so lonely” “please help me” these are the thought’s I’ve uttered to myself over and over again and even though I decided years ago that I couldn’t go on I am still here. “why is that?” I hear you ask, Well the reason is because my self inflicted exile has allowed life to flourish and create absolutely beautiful things beyond my wildest dreams. There where great times, when I was in harmony with my body as well as my mind, but gradually those times have disappeared.
I have tried multiple times to end my life, and my body carries the scars. I can feel them every day and they mock me, why? Because I have never done it right, they mock my immense failure. I am being so selfish but I don’t care anymore, I have spent what seems like centuries creating a cancer to kill myself, one that will slowly strip me of my flesh from the inside out and drain me of my very life force. It is beautiful, almost perfect, it will spread quicker than plagues of locust and consume everything healthy in my body until it has taken all my life, once it has finished it’s task it will fade without a trace or a memory, a scream or a sigh.
The cancer has begun to spread, I feel myself growing ever weaker, It is now almost absolute. Quite poetic in a way, As I get weaker it gets stronger yet when I die it die’s too. As I have grown older my sadism has grown more wicked. I’ve often laughed to myself thinking about my cancer consuming me, Growing more and more confident with every space it takes over, probing into new unknown territories with great satisfaction at the ripe pastures it see’s. Little does it know that this will end, It’s conquest will be over before it has time to rejoice over it’s spoils, The stupid thing. It can be clever at times I must say, It targets and desecrates my organs with pinpoint accuracy and lets no good go to waste, I feel it everyday. What a beautiful creation.
“A name, That’s it! I need a name for this magnificent disease….“ Ok I’ve got one, One that is as twisted as my mind But allow me to introduce myself first, I have been so rude. My name is Mother Earth and I shall call my disease Mankind.
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