I'm just never alone. Yes, that's the problem, I'm sure. All those creatures. Each different, not a single scrap of consistency; beyond their title. All called human, every one of them. But how can this be? Such variances within them. Each one with a different hole in their heart. Some craving power to exact a metaphoric revenge on some travesty of their past; whether or not it existed beyond the mind of that individual, or wealth to show off what they can truly do. Every heart, absolutely brimming with a desire for something, a hatred of something. But they'll all see, as their stench begins to collect.
It's not a stench, per se. No, that's the wrong word. No, it collects like a stench, but it has no scent. It's the stench of their souls, their collective being, their collective...no, I'm sure there is a word for such a thing as they exude. It fills the air, it has that feeling. Like a weight that exists purely due to their emotions. Piteous creatures, they exist purely to exist, purely to continue their own existence. Not me...no, I exist to show them the error of their ways. But have they been erroneous?
Do they know what they are? Do they have any clue what they have done? What they continue to do? What they continue to be? Impossible! Unheard of! Why, they would have to be half as mad as me...no...No, it's not me who has gone 'round the bend. It is they, they who breath in that scentless stench who are mad, who have gone and reduced themselves to cattle driven by cattle, driven by cattle, driven by...where was I? Oh yes, their madness. It's understandable, they can't handle themselves. So many of them! So very many of them, do they even understand their sizes? Their numbers? Inconceivable! They see only hard facts, cold statistics, they can't possibly know the truth!
I will soon be alone. And I will be the lucky one, though the cold earth above me may laugh for all eternity.
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