You know dearies, today I realized something very important! Life is one damn struggle of simply not being dead. Did you know? It is a game of survival, really. God grins at your face and says, "How long can you survive, baby?" And you sweetly smile back at that bloody Creator and say, "I am playing the game honey, of surviving on my own terms as best possible under the circumstances, the game of not being dead. Allow me to play on!"
Why the hell is that God always pampering me? Why on earth does he always give me whatever I want? Even if it would cause injuries. He has spoilt me, really. But then I can't always scream at him; he loves me too. Or perhaps that's why I scream at him. I have even stopped asking him for things.
Had a slight headache last night, and it propelled me back into a dream I had a month back, of the huge disaster I was destroying with my tiny fingers. And I felt a drunken madness, a poison building up inside me, creating a childish glee. It was a fluid, enchanting mirth that was flowing through my veins.
I now continue to live in it. The poison does not kill me, it destroys others. I want to sting, destroy. Does anyone dare to drink it? Will someone take my poison and be one with me? Will You? Ha ha ha! I don't think so. You know so little, don't you, my dear little darlings? You wouldn't dare to know me. You couldn't possibly tolerate my madness, you wouldn't survive my poison.
Come now, you understand this, don't you? that you cannot answer my question?... because I am a question.
Best part is, even I am not looking for an answer... ;-)
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