the TWENTY SIXTH of AUGUST, TWO THOUSAND and TWENTY.

is there anything after death?
it depends on my mood. sometimes i believe in spirit,
most times i just believe in the endless veil of velvety darkness.
this vague sense of spirit, however, presents itself often to me.
odd occurences. coincidences, perhaps, but fantasy is in my human nature.
do i believe i have a soul? yes. in this cave, crowded with soft, squishy organs,
there is a soul. a corrupted soul, but a soul nonetheless.
a soul that craves love and affection.
love is fleeting, love is finite.
i tell myself this, yet i always find myself yearning.
despite detesting my human nature, it won't leave me. it's simple.
to detach myself is a dream, a wish.
yet, i will always be burdened with these emotions. conflicting emotions.
i have become rather cynical.

take me back!