It all started very, very early in my life. They raised me well and had me read. I read for days on end sometimes, I think I read too much. They gave me too many books. I went from little trinket picture books at 10 to Voltaire and Nietzsche at 12. Of course I would go nowhere from there, except to that place. I shiver at the mere thought of it. Regardless, I'd stay in this ghost town of men. I'm here now. Same house as it has been. I had all these thoughts in my mind I did not know what to do with them. I didn't have enough money to go to a large place and there wasn't any minds to share with here. I was trapped with all of the philosophies and bibles and all. I think it was destiny it had to be me. The man that went there. The one who had to witness it all, and to be forced to live on or be cursed to return to something much worse. I am still alone now in my mind, I can only share it to you and you must stay quiet, please, please, please, please, please, please. You'll reach that place too, I know. Maybe you already have. What a shame. I am sorry, but I am no longer alone.
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Penana
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