The time capsule.

It was a very early morning and it had rained the night before. The sky was a dull gray, in fact everything was a confusing dullness that I've only seen a few times in my life. Sometimes i think i'm dead, because death comes in so many forms and yet people still think it's when you depart the world in some ridiculous fashion often leaving behind weeping humans. I realize my views are often offensive, maybe hurtful but does it really matter when you're dead? At that moment i felt almost surreal like i wasn't here at all and then i looked back at my life and realized i hadn't been here, not really...as if i was some kind of forgotten dream whose existence is speculative. Truthfully, i feel like i'm stumbling around in the dark which has no end and where i really have no place to go and most of all i'm heartbroken with a very real pain in my chest that i feel even as i am writing this. As i stared at the little frogs yuppiting about in the garden outside i realized how it was all blank to me. I had these dreams when i was little, these ambitions of being a great writer but how could i have nurtured those lies for so long? Because right now there is nothing and i'm suffocating in it and yet I've lost all courage to leave. I've always had these great expectations from myself, these great ideas about what i am, where did i leave them. Now i look at people, ordinary people, and think about how magnificent their lives must be,while in any realistic universe they should have sold their souls to be me.