23th October 2007

I knew no body was like me, and I find out trying my best to fit in will not help. Because I think I do not want to fit in. Why should I want to? Because the beings out there in the light want to be what I am. And those beings do not know me. I am laughing at them. or perhaps I am laughing at myself because in my reflection I see that I might be like them. But I know I am not. I think what I say is terribly ironical. Such as the phrase, "The faces of my victims scared me". I live knowing that I am dead to the world, unable to enjoy the simple things that mean the most to me. A simple note could be of such impact, of what magnitude will the impact of the final vow be?