Insecticide

She lived in a world separate from everyone else. She was an insect. There were aspects of her that she shelled away. It prevented the bitterness from intruding and scavenging on the rot of what was broken. At least this way the decomposition could be isolated and allowed to provide life for something else... someday. Introspectively, she understood that she was just one specimen among billions of insects.



We're not alone in our desolation. The metaphysical skin chafes with the development of our perspective. Someday everyone will understand each other a little better and we'll know that our lives aren't as hard as they make it out to be. Someday you'll come to know what it's like to be a truly intimate human being without experiencing sexual contact. When that occurs we'll be in concurrence that life is worth living. People are worth your time, just as much as you're worth theirs. It will become so clear, that no matter how difficult your life was prior to that day, you'll experience inscrutable euphoria. Every day has a purpose. Every breath is delicious. Every life is beautiful. Please take solace in understanding that no matter how difficult things get for you, you will always be incalculably worthy of my time.