The young girl stood before a small rotting apple on the forest floor. Never once did she blink of care to be distracted by the other forest sound. The hiring of birds, the rustling of falling leaves as wind caressed them with a gentle yet forceful hand. Her expression was left unchanged, one would even doubt that she was breathing.
Many wondered about her purpose for being there. Woodland creatures would stop for a moment and stare almost seemingly confused. They had never dared look at the apple. Everything except the worms had rejected the apple. Even the grass refused to grow around this apple. Perhap that's what had fascinated her so deeply about that apple. Then again one would know the real reason.
Days had passed as she's still and unmoving, she had become the forest boulder. The apple was barely even visible under the mold and the crawling worms, preparing the apple to serve as a nutrient to the soil. Still still she stared on blankly as the world around her would pass
For once it was shining and life inhabited nearly every fine that was once a part of it. It was during that phase she was hesitant to begin her conquest. Now at this face she couldn't possibly feel more intrigued by the beauty of this apple. Brimming with death as life is drained by small bits as it is consumed by worms.
But even then such a possibility is only a hypothesis. There is no sure way to tell the reason why she was standing there. Maybe it wasn't even because of the apple. Maybe the vivid image that your mind had envisioned through such a description of the apple directly implied what she was staring at.
It is true that this is an important Philosophy to remember but still this is not what I implore you to consider. Very well, one is true that my sins are many but are they not as grotesque as the one who has been blessed with an advocate? So I live on in breathing and defecating only releasing what can no longer be used, is that a sin so great? Am I not worthy of forgiveness? Very well, it is not this life alone that I may suffer through but the fact that there are many. So I ask you as you look at my sin, why is it they assume my intensive attention is focused on something so insignificant?
I come to understand my deeds were not horrifying as I go on to live a life worth nothing? Why not accept the truth before me as thy lie awake on captive obscene nights. I was young, was I not? And so very caring to thee. I was declared insane, was I not? And yet they pass over my body that lie as what's left of my warm life bleeding out over the pavement. Irrelevant and cast aside, what could I have done to assure that at least one pitiful face would mourn my demise.
I hath no audience and I speak only for thyself, of no one one else shall than I must. Hear me now, my last words, my dying plea, should the words of any dead man not be honored? Deceased breath, fading strength, let this body I keep haunt me no more and may my deeds not hold me as a chain to this Earth. Gift me with the peace to not be consumed by flame or to stay present lurking unrecognized by my love.
Oh my Sattame, my beloved fallen angel of mercy, release my heart from yours, I could not bear to watch you in sorrow, burdened heavy by-. I realize now it must be so as the world fades from my view I rest on tears that grace my brittle skin painted with blood.
208Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm6oxRWZaUq
I had been wrongly judged by fate before my repertoire had proceeded but ten words. Though I implore you to listen I must warn you this isn’t a whimsical tale of my life rather a brooding one of my violent demise. So when there is a portion of my life of which I wish to communicate like so, that has limited connection to my death I simply italicize it. So comprehensively you will understand past my incoherent blabber, my driving point.
For they insist they must know who I am to have a designated gravestone and a place in the afterlife, rather than aimlessly searching for a place to rest in a state of purgatory, which is only the best case scenario. It is possible I remain in the realm of the living, the worst punishment as in such a case I would be the one who is truly haunted.
So if they must know my name had been Lune, a cruel joke endorsed by the parents who my eyes had never gazed upon in times of remembrance. A tag was stapled onto the neckline of my shirt yet the individuals who had stapled there had turned around and ran before I could even look at them. The person who wrapped me around in their arms had not yet changed that name to one more suitable and one that couldn't easily be vexing aurally.
This aunt of mine, claiming to be a relative from a far off side of my family, had attempted to show me the bright side of life. Unfortunately in the grey city I inhabited I, of course, only saw a dreary life in the purest of reality. This aunt of mine had simply endorsed fantasies, visions she refused to let go of since childhood, so I could not be the one who was strange. If that were truly so then why must it be that I was mocked as I was? Yet my aunt of fantasies is considered to be a delightful woman, what could be so delightful about the deceitful liar who only loved me because she had to? She probably stands gaping with tears of relief over my casket.
The whole family with blood in their rose-colored facade continued to walk in such a similar pattern. Peter, Charlotte, Liam, Birdie and Leith were the names of her blood-related children arranged in a rather peculiar pattern. The cousins from her long deceased brother; Kanik, Thana, Bedelia, Courtney and Sephtis. I was older than all of them except for Kanik who was already off in college by the time of my death, and Thana who was always a grade above me. Peter was the same age as me and the rest of them were younger. I stood as an outcast even in the home that claimed to accept me, by public atrocities.
Occasionally it would happen that I would find myself in conversations with the individuals I lived with and it was then that I felt uninspired. Unable to continue my online presence and instead invest my time in physical activities. However I have been senselessly rambling on for you have learned all you need to learn for my name to appear on a gravestone. Now I must advocate on the behalf of the destined location of my soul.
ns 15.158.61.54da2
