Dead men tell sad tales

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Chapter 1

F.O.Y.A.

All I see are fools, fools and ignorant pricks that run in circles as though they are getting somewhere,
little do they realise that they are getting no where, for worn out floors lead to nothing.
But, still they run, they run till they can run no more, and even then they run, they run till they reach some sort of oddly satisfying ending.
And all I do is watch, watch as they destroy themselves, the same way I have destroyed myself, for I am no better than any of them, or am I?

I'm dead you see, soul as cold as ice, eyes blurry and grey, I am but a shell of what was and what is,
yet I'm alive, cool air fills my lungs and warm blood fills my veins, and electricity pluses through my brain.
Though isn't it all for naught? We're all gonna die nameless someday any way, and all that work to keep me alive, to keep anyone alive, is useless.
And all the words being said, have been said and said before, they are useless too, even these words you are reading right now, why are you reading this? It's all been said before.

I'm sorry you're talking to a dead man, but a dead man is what I am, we're all dead in a way, in our own simple way.
We think that it'll make a difference, that we will make a difference, but in the end, we are all the same, we follow the same paths and we make the same damn mistakes, what is seen as new, is old, very very old, but we're all ignorant, so we'll never know.
I once thought myself different from them, but the more I watch them go by, the more I realise that I am no different, it was pathetic to think otherwise, pathetic, yes, that seems fitting, wouldn't you say?

All we do is pat each other on the back for good deeds done and whine about the bad.
For this is the monotonous life we live, and the funny thing is, when life is no longer monotonous, we wish for the busy days to end.
Why? Why can't we appreciate what we have? Why must we always yearn for something we don't have, what somebody else has, did it ever occur to you that perhaps they don't even want it?
Doesn't matter anyways, for even if you get all you want, human nature dictates that you gotta go, people who live on the edge are the only ones who truly appreciate anything, I guess that makes me one of you, right?

So, let us smile at our own self pity, and wollow in doubt and hopelessness, for one day this will all be forgotten, I will be forgotten, and all that'll be left, is a nameless pile of dust.
Now wasn't that a sad tale? But you know what? Despite all this, all I do is tilt my head back and laugh, for I've figured out the truth, and in the end, isn't that what we all want?
None of this makes any sense, but perhaps it'll amuse you for a little bit.

Farewell, my friend, until we meet again.

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