I'm just as bad as those I hate. Controlling. A nervous wreck. Backstabber. Cold. Callused. I should devour myself and be no more. The eternal question: Who am I? It shall never be answered. I'll strive to know but be left behind. Thoughts confuse me. Are we real without our senses? Is any of this real? Do you really stand there in front of me or are you non-existent? When I touch you is your skin really there? Does the organs that power me really work? Sometimes I think this is all a science-fiction story. We all know how those end. The beast who is so loved by its creator is murdered by those unintelligent and fearful humans. Who are we to judge who lives and who dies? What's wrong and right? It's human nature to name and further classify what needs not be. When will we learn that a snake by is still a snake without the name? Organize, classify, study. In this grand scheme of things do we really exist or are we toys that the Gods play with?
Human being: noun. Sentient beings who destroy what they create. See: fear, intelligence, destruction or puzzle.

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