Time was running out yet we were headed nowhere fast. It seemed as if everyday now people were getting attacked. Maybe by their choices or others or turning on academics like math. Life was like a whirlwind with everything happening as if we lived in the past. Hours ticked away and days passed as we desperately hoped for a spark. But what could have been a spark seemed to only be fuel for the flame.

It seemed as if the streets were set ablaze. We didn’t question the origin as we marveled at the destructive wake that stood before us. IT seemed like tension rose everyday as the assembly line of life pushed us to one side or another as we divided. We were to be conquered by ourselves most likely.

We could have changed but why? We were ingrained in our ways. Forged by the hardships, the fire, and desperately avoiding this new one so we could remain the way we were set. The only motivation for change was what we shunned. Maybe curiosity could have killed the old ways and brought us to brighter tomorrows. But we had never seen better. We didn’t know so we didn’t need life was sorrows. And we were content with how we lived. The only hunger we had was an appetite for failure which seemed to feast each day.

With only that I was led to a hell of some sorts. I had nothing to live for yet I was determined to keep walking through life. I remember the days I sat at my window pleading for a why, a reason, to live. I sometimes sit and wish for those simpler days again. But it seems as if without that then theres no reason at all. You could fill a pristine shining car to the brim with gas and have it in the best condition ready to drive but without a destination it really couldn’t go anywhere. I had a destination yet I lacked a route.

I wasn’t sure what life was all really about. I figured that maybe I was too young or not experienced enough. When I look back now I see that maybe there is no point to life unless you find it. I think through the trips I had been on in life I found mine along with some vivid horrors. I had seen desperation in the true form. Her face pale and her mind misguided she ricocheted around life searching for answers like a mosquito looking for a feast. Maybe pride killed her from inside or maybe she took in too much of the outside which killed her. All I remember was how vividly desperation, for food, shelter, needs to live, whys to be answered, tore through her like a beast. She was like a baby completely dependent on a nipple, a why, for food, for a reason, to live. Yet she searched through the dark starving.

We were starved of light, of hope, of somewhere the tunel lead us. We waited each day half expecting the train to come through and demolish us. In these dark days I searched for an exit or some hope like a rat scurrying along a wall hoping to live another day. In fact I didn’t really search for hope but more often ran from a dead end.

In the hell hole we were starving yet being eaten alive. My vices, my past, my failures, others, and the fact that I would admittedly know my mistakes yet do them again. It didn’t matter what it was but it ate at me so much that it must have been plump and gluttonous. Throughout life I lay in the street like a dead dog. My coat dirty and my paws rough. MY insides feasted on by maggots and scum. My problems would continue eating at me no matter where I would flee to.

I woke up this morning and looked out the window. The buildings sat decrepit and outside the people sat malnourished. Life was at a standstill. IT seemed as if we had reached the eye of the storm in hell and decided we would settle. We stopped the gears and grew accustomed to what we knew even after it stopped working and our wells ran dry. We knew the only way to leave decay was to leave it in the dust but we were firmly planted. Instead the dust settled around us. Rigor mortis had set in on us. We were dead and lifeless. The energy and future was gone, packed up and moved into foreign lands.