You know when I found out they are over billions of people in the world and for every person that dies about more than thousands are born, so ever since that I never really feel any emotion once anyone dies. Sorry how I am talking about such things even though we just met despite that you even know more me about than my father (he was an asshole) in his whole life. Yes you might say I have be more grateful because he never left mother and I, like ok? The thing is just like eating when you're hungry taking care of your child is a necessary of life.

For fuck sake even thousands of years ago caveman (who didn't know what the hell was going on) were doing it. So congratulations he was a human? You don't just bring a child into world for nothing, if you were bring That up calling me ungrateful, it tells more about you than you telling about me. That one guy was right with every sane man would want to kill their father, always been a dream of mine but I don't know where the fuck he was going with that wanting to fuck my mother. Probably he was insane.

I remember I had this thought at the hospital while crying over my dead grandmother (God bless her) walking down the hallway I came across the room where they put all the babies in, then it struck me then I told the poor little ones "Welcome to hell".

Everyone should know there is no luck in life just repetition and if people who start wars actually fight in the wars there would be a lot less wars, you just have to be in the right environment or place, have the right genes, have the right personality and have the right people around you so life would be more giving.

I'm not the only one with this same predicament of the amount of people they are in the world, there was also a girl called Rose. She is "pretty" that depends on who answered, she was looking at a black spot on the bar table. There were one chair, two chairs , a chair where you sit in, a chair that feels kind of hard, my descriptions may leave much to be desires but I'm not sorry, I don't care. It may seem different from what the critics (most are rather ugly if you ask me) have led you to believe but another person's work doesn't only exist to serve you, they are there to make money.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

They are enough money, fame and attention for everyone (you're just not looking in the right places) there is no need to be jealous all you need is patience. Don't be jealous of anyone though it may not seem like it they too have shitty live, they have them too, just know how to hide your misery better than the rest that is the key for happiness in life. Life would be so much better if we can focus on one thing at a time.

I am not a poet, I am a writer. If you didn't know the difference don't worried I was explain it's not like I'm busy I have time I wouldn't die (that I know of until the next second) and I also have have enough words. A poet puts the world in a surreal and absurd state where a writer put it in a more logical one, so where I am certain the reader "you" (because who knows if anyone is reading this) who have must living all this time must know what the fuck a chair looks like and is . I came here to have fun not a place to be judged like in the relationship between father and son. The beauty of words through life come from me saying 'I was over there, just a bit there, a lot more there and now I'm here'.

They were even more chairs in the bar well enough to let everyone sit down but they wasn't sitting just standing up drinking. Like why do they so that? does that make them drunk faster since gravity will be more into play at that position or does the drink taste better? Know what I don't care it isn't any of my business. You like books? Name all the classics.

Now where was I. Rose