Essay by: Chrysta
Page 70 1/2
Happiness...love. Nothing but mortal feelings. Once upon a time I too thought I was mortal. But now I know better.Humans care nothing for the outsiders, those anominies that roam in the shadows, silent among the joyful crouds that chatter and guffaw about how great it is to be a human that doesn't know its shit stinks.They can grind one's confidence down to a bare nub with their names and dirty stares, these pokes and prods to the heart that feel like lances.And eventually, they can make you hate yourself with such fervor that you too stab and slash yourself into nothing.
Some end up at the end of a bloodied rope, some in asylums, and some become stronger. But none of them can ever be happy again.
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