The End
Thus everything bleeds.
"When it all ends abruptly."
"Well..."
"What can you do? There's nothing you can really say..."
"Weird, I would say."
"Horror, the way I would describe it."
"Horror?"
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Yeah... I think that would be it's appropriate designation. It fits really well too."
"But is it?"
"Oh... I mean, probably."
"Why am I discussing this? It makes no sense either way, it's something you have to live with. Something that now is a part of you."
"I don't know, honestly."
"It's not like there's anything wrong with this, you know? It's simply weird. And I... Well... You know?"
"Know what?"
"The limitations bother me, there's something absurd about all of this. Backwards and forwards. It like knowing..."
"Hmm..."
"I don't know..."
"But it would make sense, wouldn't it? Trying to define oneself on what they are, you know?"
"Who am I then? What defines me? It's senseless. It's frustrating."
"You can't define anything, can you? We can barely brush the essence of anything. It's not something we can comprehend. But control..."
"But that wouldn't be a problem. Definitions, essences, the problem is the thought. When you can't control it."
"It is a problem when we can't grasp something, it always was, it always will be. These are the things that make us feel at ease."
"I think..."
"You think?"
"It's really something else, a colorful spectrum of this world, so we don't have to fear it. Do we? We don't."
"I don't know me. No matter the line I'm on, I don't know. It's stressful. It's something..."
"Do you know you? I don't know you... I can't know you. No matter how I look at it, a picture may be a thousand words, but it isn't anything."
"Who knows... I mean who knows me? What is all this? The thoughts, the mess, the entropy, the optimistic pessimism of this. Poetic..."
"This is how it all started, right?"
The End. Now read it from here on up.
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