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Who are you?

    I find it humorous when people say we're doomed for a dystopian future. 'Dystopia' simply means a society characterized by human misery. Isn't that what we're already doing? Isn't that what we've been doing for years? Then again, I don't know much as of now. I don't live by answers, as you may have thought. In fact, I have a thing for questions. For instance, if you planted your heart, what would it grow? See, doesn't that make you wonder? -There I go again with another question. They haunt me, in the best of ways possible. 

'Find me, find treasure. Find treasure, find forever'. What is forever? How long is it really? What is time, and why can't we fix it? So you wanna know about me? 

I am mean.

I am rude.

I don't listen, and I certainly don't have all the answers, or any for that matter. Am I forever? No, that's absurd. My questions must end at some point, everything is supposed to have a beginning and an end. But what about saturn's rings, time, and well.. forever? 

I see it move, time. But I cannot touch it. Oh how I would like to pick it up, feel the weight of time in my cold hands. What would be heavier, time, or joy?

I suppose you'd wonder if I have a name. But, if you were to hold a name, it'd be lighter than time and joy. So why only have one? But if you insist a convenient way to label me, pick a question, please. I don't quite know which one, you'll have to decide which is heaviest in your time-holding hands. 

Of course, I'm rambling on, so I'll cut right to the chase.

I'm a murderer. 


Usually people would expect this detail to be first, but in some sick way, 'I have a thing for questions' almost makes 'I'm a murderer' sound comforting. You will soon know how I live with myself, and maybe even be able to look me in the eye. Here's to hoping- Cheers.

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