Whenever I watch a movie, an action or a romance, I'm reminded of why I don't belong here. Stories of true love are fascinating and envy-inducing, but they don't inspire or move me. Because I know that kind of happiness is not my destiny. It is not what I am owed in this life.

The stories of adventure and survival, the hunter who fights the bear, or a spartan child who slays the wolf, those stories awaken a fire inside me. For some reason, I was cursed to be born as me, but not into a world that wants me. I'm supposed be different solely for the benefit of other's.

I wonder if it is natural, that if the living and life don't want me, then maybe my true destiny lies with death. For what arbitrary reason, I still don't know. I tried to solve the puzzle that is me, and life, I can't explain why either have come to exist.

All I know is that life is ceaseless pain and I'm not even all that upset about it. Because death, death makes more sense to me. More than love, more than hate, more than greed, more than lust. Death makes more sense, and has more reason to exist than I do. It serves a purpose, one so great, that it cannot be denied.

I am not afraid to die. I am, however, afraid to pass in my sleep, or while doing nothing but what other's wanted me to do. I am afraid to play by the "rules", only to realize too late that there weren't any, and it never really mattered at all. I may as well have done what I wanted. To face the bear, because unlike this first world I now live in, at least the bear would have the courtesy to kill me if I am obsolete. Not hold me prisoner, pretending it's doing the right thing. At least it would give me the semblance of a good death.

I wish I had died fighting when I still had the chance.