Tar

A Story by yellow devil

It's a slow killing process, but I'm trying to do. One that requires that I do it without you. Life gave me the challenge, and I accepted because I thought I could. I never did things the way everyone supposed I should. I wronged the righteous and live to tell a tale. It seems that life has determined that I should only fail. I tell the people around me that I am the result of my own choices. Having to listen to the barbs of others in a countless number of voices. I lack the common sense and the common decency to do things right. I turn over the events in my head as I fill shelves at night. I lie to everybody with jokes and smiles and wit. Never letting anyone in to protect my dying spirit. As I am not able to function in the absolute norm. I have to try to fight my way through this stupid storm. On the wings of lies I fly, ever closer to the end. I have no desire to recollect the decisions that I rend. In this flurry of unfulfilled life I have the urge to be. There's something deeper in this retardedness that wants to get out of me. I am confused as to whether it is greatness or my end of days. It's as though I'm in a play on which no one will gaze. But is that really even so bad as to cause fear? In this drama filled with comedy, I'll be the last one standing here.