Prologue.


    <strong>Prologue. A Blood Stained Knife</strong>


    <span style="font-weight:400">Youth.


    <span style="font-weight:400">It is but a fleeting moment in our lives. One thates and goes with the wind.


    <span style="font-weight:400">One moment you’re in your prime, living life freely without the slightest care in the world filled with innocent thoughts of love in your heart... then the next thing you know, you’ve reached adulthood and the world turns into a shit-stained dreary mess where something like love is no more than a disgusting lie.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Perhaps one day... you even find yourself in my shoes at the age of forty, the light in your eyes slowly fading to ck, your head hanging down low like a puppet with its strings cut… slowly, but surely, losing consciousness, all the while staring at every drop that drips down to the ground from the knife plunged straight through your chest.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Your body, slowly loses its strength.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Your entire life, shes before your eyes.


    <span style="font-weight:400">You try to understand how you arrived at this bizarre final destination.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Elementary school, you were bullied.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Middle school, you closed your heart off from the world and gradually gave up on trying.


    <span style="font-weight:400">High school, you avoided anything and everyone, you focused only on your grades and whatever little hobbies you may have had.


    <span style="font-weight:400">University, you wasted your time on bullshit promises of some sort of fancy high-paying job in the future.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Your final destination, your job, a prison to keep you shackled like an obediently trained dog on a leash. At such a ce, you are allegedly part of society’s workforce surrounded by those with their creepy masks, smiles painted on.


    <span style="font-weight:400">In the end, the expectation is for you to contribute back into the shitty clockwork system that turns children into fellow adults incapable of love, exactly what you yourself have be. You only know of work and nothing else as that is what society trained you to be.


    <span style="font-weight:400">At least, these were the sorts of scenes I saw before my eyes permanently closed and the world faded to ck.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Right as the curtains closed upon the story of my life, I heard a quiet murmur close up to my right ear, “Haaaaaah. If you’d made different choices in life and learned of love… maybe you wouldn’t have had to die all alone like this.” I couldn’t help but think of these words as being the seductive whispers of the devil.


    <span style="font-weight:400">As to whether or not those words had truly been said to me in my final moments… it may have been nothing more than a figment of my imagination.