Alone, I spend my time on this endless gray road. Walking toward a stickler of a pickle, in which I have no clue to act or to sit. Play your games, clawing and gnawing the pith. My soul hurts, or am I having a panic attack? I no longer can tell, meaningless meanings begin to stack. Hello, and my name is Zack. Who, what, where, and how am I? A boy, confused, Southern Utah, and I've been wishing I was dead since I was ten. Death is just sleeping forever...and this world just doesn't feel right you see? It will never be right for me. Life is a stage and they say you can hear an invisible person from across the cantilevers and beams. A phantom, but I can't take this mask off. Oh, believe this is true, I want to. There is just too much emotional glue. Where is the spice to thicken this stew? Is the world so bland, where is my promised land? There she be, says the pirate at sea. He was right, for on the forgotten shore, a girl sat upright, seemingly bursting from Earth's core. I embrace the curvature figure, and take her hand, before she stares at me dead, and dissolves back into sand. Life's a b***h, isn't it? A female hound in heat, constantly bothering, quartering. Where is the she-beast's leash? Alas, the harlot has gotten free. FLEE, FLEE, FLEE TOWARD THE SEA.
Robots can't handle water like you and me.
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