There are times when I look at my life and wonder if anything was worth it. I look back, and all I see is me being covered in the filth of others. I look back, at the pain, and wonder, why. I look back, and see nothing is accomplished, my life a book with few pages written.

I am 31. And what do I have? I have been rejected by everyone around me, so often, even by those who don't even know I exist. As I look back at my life, I see myself being molested, raped, beaten physicall and emotionly. Abandoned by a mother, and rejected by two fathers. Ignored by those charged with my care, I grew introverted as my peers saw me as a worthless worm to torture. I taught myself how to defend myself, then taught myself how to kill - without emotion, which is one thing I am still pondering on regretting. I've yet to find anything that does make me regret dissolving my heart.

I look around me, about me, outside. I see people in love, having fun with each other. I ponder, "Why can't I have that? What is it that causes this lack?" and I answer myself. I am surrounded by the filth, the exriment of the foul leavings of the diseased humans on this planet.

Only thing I have ever asked for, is someone to love me, teach me how to love. To want me for me, and not just for the things I can do physically. Is that too much to ask?

Yes. It is. and so, I bid now adeu as I make my blades sharp, clean my guns, and ponder the penalty of immortality.