Black sky

I feel and sense something; I don’t know what I am trying to say.

I do not even see the need to pray.

Truly, I feel I am connected and confident in the way that I live my life…

I want to write on poetic format, in a rhyming manner.

But I find it at this time healthier and easiest to write in this form.

Sentence and structure.

I remember as a child, being locked inside of a closet. I still cannot remember what I did.

Perhaps, it was bad.

Perhaps, it was troublesome…

Perhaps I was a troubled boy.

But the damage was done repeatedly, and crazily, to my mind and soul.

I do not complain, no.

I rationalize and adopt a philosophy to work through the turmoil.

Stoicism.

I was born to be this way.

I was born to be a stoic.

That is who I am.

That is how I keep from going insane.

Keep from succumbing to drastic pain…

I think of Franz Kafka every now and then, and I think about his life.

I scoff in a sense…

You do not know pain, my dear friend.

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