Sometimes I look at inanimate objects and wonder how they would feel if they could express emotion.

This keyboard that I’m typing on right now; does it want to be used in such a way?

Does this make it happy, or does it feel discouraged that it will only have one true purpose?

These are the things I think about sometimes.

Some may call it strange or ridiculous, but I call it sympathy.

I felt so low again.

There's no reason for it.

The morning comes, and my eyes don't want to open.

I roll over and lethargy takes control.

I won't get out of bed today.

I shut myself out of this world.

Crawl into the depths of my mind.

I wander around, creating scenarios,

a world of all my dreams and hopes;

a world of all my sorrows and wretchedness.

I lie motionless, I could be dead.

My heart beating slow.

My love for myself, as low as it can go.

I spend hours here.

A pause in my time.

A ripple in the expanse of my oceans.

I can't get out of bed today.

And that's okay.

Tomorrow I will start afresh.

A new day shall dawn,

and with it, a new me shall be born.

From my ashes, I will rise.

I will not be my own demise.

These waves wash over me,

and I will take my moments when I am free.

Free to roam and be grateful again,

when I am ready, that will be when.

To imagine there is something out there is absurd.

Running over everything

Fingers always fidgeting

I've found that it's better to just let go

Time to start ignoring

Please, no more relying

The time has now come to join the herd

No more searching

We're all dying

Come on over and enjoy the flow

All of us laughing

Friends always visiting

Consider now as you leave the pack

Mind finally freeing

There's no more wanting

You are acting like quite the comedian

Feelings outreaching

Desires of longing

Stop adding things on top of our stack

They start falling

While we're still yawning

You're as relevant as a sane chameleon

Or we'll start cursing

So quit your taunting

Another day I find myself

Beckoning the sun to rise

Close my eyes and soak in the warmth

Deep breaths calm my soul

Every part of me braces for the tide

Fire burns behind my closed eyelids

Gentle breeze plays with my hair

Headache fades and my mind clears

Imagine myself flying, free 

Journal resting open in my lap

Keeping my thoughts bound  

Letters on a page 

Memories and ideas immortalized 

Never forgotten even after I’m gone 

Open my eyes 

Peace washes over me 

Quiet waves lap the shore

Rise and fall like heart beats

Seaweed tickles my toes 

Today 

Unknown 

Views may change 

Worlds may collide

Xenacious

Yet in this moment 

Zeal embraces me.

.....

It’s curious, isn’t it. When you’re alone in an empty room, how your voice is so big. So loud. Shattering the silence. And then the silence grows teeth and sinks them into you, one part at a time so you can squirm and plead and shout.

Please, someone. Anyone. Hear me. See me. Talk to me. Tell me what I want to hear. Hold me. Please.

And finally your voice, jagged and raw and scraping, gives out. You’re alone with your thoughts, your voices, telling you what you don’t want to know, don't want to remember because it’s driving you mad. Completely insane.

But eventually, you embrace the crazy. Because it’s better than the silence.

Did you ever wonder about the inhabitants of Silverwood Asylum? They went crazy because they were locked up. Maybe some of them were crazy before- who knows- but slowly you get sucked in, the more you’re in a place like this. A grey padded cell, surrounded by other people’s splinters and shards constantly clamoring.

That’s where I am, by the way. Even though you don’t care. I’m on my knees in the corner, scribbling this in blood after I realized my teeth and my skin belonged together.

I almost forgot the mose important part of this morbid draft: I’m innocent. Pinky promise. I didn’t kill my family, no matter what they say. And they say an awful lot. I can still remember the whispers in the courtroom as metal pinched my wrists, grief and anger digging talons into my guts until I collapsed, screaming. Crying. For someone to believe me. I remember the murderer, smug and smiling, as they dragged me away.

He stopped smiling when I clawed one of his eyes out.

They found me guilty after that, sent me here to live out the rest of my days in “comfort.” Oh, yes. The “comfort” of cold, gray Purgatory, or maybe this is Hell itself. Only trouble is, this can’t be Hell because there are no politicians.

I’m just... here.

Wasting away in a haze of grey. Irrevelant. But my voice still echoes. People still hear it if they're willing to listen.

I am not going quietly.

Today, I’m going to Mu Bu Palace. As I peer out of the fancy carriage, I see the silent guards marching beside the carriage. I look around the interior of the carriage. I impulsively trace my right hand over the sophisticated designs. But deep inside, I just trying to keep my mind away from my fate. I, Shao Zexian was sent here to serve the King as a concubine. I know I’m going to die a horrific death.

I feel the carriage stop. “Concubine Shao Zexian is here!” A guard announces. The soldiers set up step stool for me. I step out of my carriage and look at the entrance. I see a maid walking up towards me. That must be my maid. ” Hello, my name Hua Luo! It will be my honor to serve you as your maid!” she spoke in an ecstatic tone. She seems like a lively person.“Nice to meet you,” I replied, “Please lead the way.” “This way,” Hua Luo answered. I follow Hua Luo. I feel my palms sweat profusely. Every concubine will be keeping their eyes on me. They will judge if I am a threat to them, and then, I will meet my fate.

I'm so ecstatic to be here. Everyone has a story. You just never know about the chapters that a person has endured. There are so many different things that could happen. My story is peppered with complex chapters and disgusting interludes.But that's what makes my story unique. None of our storis could be duplicated.

I've led a life of odd happenings, little wrinkles in my life that do not belong. Many of them bad, some of them good, but rather than getting into those I feel a compilation of the weirdest or most uncommon circumstances or personality traits I have experienced would be most interesting to read. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed reliving them.

1. I got stung by a portuguese man-of-war when I was 11 years old. It got tangled in my hair when I was swimming in the ocean, and attached itself to my back before I could even scream. I was shrieking and crying (it was unimaginably painful), and the only thing my cousin said was, "Should I pee on it?"

2. I have the worst eyesight imagineable, and am far past the point of being considered legally blind if it weren't for my glasses. Two years ago I was comfortably wearing contacts, but when I realized all of my friends wore glasses, I started wearing mine too because I didn't want to be the odd one out.

3. I once accidentally exploded a cup on the stove when I was trying to make pasta. I didn't want to have to clean a whole pot so I, in all of my vast logic, decided to put the dry pasta in a cup, which at the time I thought was made of glass. Hint: it wasn't. Not five minutes passed before the cup, which I found then was plastic, exploded in all directions, effectively scaring the hell out of me and my poor dog. I still ate the pasta, though it was quite burnt and hard. Waste not want not, right?

4. I've started writing a million stories that I never finish. I would love to write a novel, but I have such a difficult time sticking with an idea after I have it, no matter how much I want to write. This is probably the most relatable thing I am writing about here.

5. I aggressively bite my nails and the skin around them, to the point where at least one of my fingers is bleeding at all times (currently, my right ring finger). I have calluses all over my fingers from the times when I bit them too much, but I don't mind too much. If anything, I can just blame it on my numerous neuroticisms.

6. Are you aware of the scene from Lady and the Tramp where the two dogs accidentally kiss because they eat the same strand of pasta? That happened to me with my best friend (at the time) when we were in 8th grade. It was an... experience.

7. I shot one of my friends in the throat with a nerf gun-esque toy, but it had more power. At the time it was hilarious, and now... it's still hilarious. I'm glad it happened too, because it turns out that friend turned into one of my biggest bullies. Now whenever I see her, I just think about the massive welt that she had for nearly a day on her throat, and I feel happy.

8. I nailed one of my friends in the face with a ping pong ball in our freshman year of highschool. Are you seeing a trend? I used to play tennis, and I decided it would be a good idea to spike a ping pong ball at a girl who had never played anything with a paddle/raquet in her life. It also may have been right before homecoming. Oops?

9. When I was a child, my cousins and I found a tree branch that had been carved by termites on the outside so there were maze-like designs completely covering the surface. It was the coolest thing we had ever seen, and naturally, we carried it around everywhere, romping around our grandparent's backyard whilst carrying the stick like it was an object touched by god. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure we did worship it.

10. My cousins and I also had a game that was essentially an aggressive, shockingly violent version of tag that revolved around a tiny, plush frog we named Larry. Whoever was in possession of Larry was immediately mobbed by the rest of the cousins, who all did their best to get Larry for themselves, no matter how underhanded they had to be to get it. It was all fun and games, with minimal crying and screaming, until one of my cousins who had Larry jumped. Off. The second story. Just to get away from the rest of us. He was fine, but earned an immediate punishment from our parents, and also earned the immediate respect of the rest of us.

I have a wealth of similar stories or weird personality traits I could share, but for now, this is all.