Religion and Other Human Eventions

What a selfish ideology, that out of all the animal species in the world humans, who are also animals, are more superior than others. This phenomenon is absolutely ridiculous, to believe that the human race has any more of an impact on earth than a simple fly does. More accurately we have demolished the planet more than any other species. The conclusion that I have pondered for quite some time now is that humans are dense creatures. They tend to hold themselves on a pedestal for creating fundamentally useless systems. We, being intelligent creatures, know that these systems are useless in the war of survival, but yet we seem not to care. I challenge you, reader, to find one useful aspect to survival in trigonometry. I grow weary of this way of thought; my mind is becoming an uninspired waste land molded by humans’ need for superiority. We are all ants on a tiny ant hill planet.


Ants are just ants, humans are just humans.

The Skinwalker

Welcome to these woods
These woods
My woods
Your woods
Please enjoy your stay
But only under the light of day
When the sun sets behind the mountains
And the stars come out to play
I pray
I pray
I pray
You go back from where you come
Because with the setting sun
The skin walker comes to have fun
It rips you limb from limb
The only one who hears your screams is me
I must leave you in misery
Your blood stains the ground
As pagans gather around
They ring their bells and summon hell
And infect these woods with pain
So be wary during the day
To not let time slip away
As day turns to night
You'll be given such a fright
As the skin walker draws near
And slits your throat ear to ear

Final Moments

I know I'm going to die. Yes, everyone has their day of reckoning however, my death is grueling,  and I'll be aware the entire time. Why do I keep trudging down the bald capped mountain? Habit I suppose. The blizzard throws me to my side. Laying in an embankment of snow, the frigid cold ripping into the last untouched reaches of my body. If I had the energy to scream maybe that snow cat would save me. Alas, all that comes out is weak breath torn into the piercing winds. Snow has already started to build up on me now, as if it knows I'm going to die and has started my burial early. Death now becomes a wish, life my enemy as it holds me into this pain as death works to set me free.