Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling: 

Tragedy of Wanderer: 

“Where does the violence take you, where do you want to go? Could you ever escape, escape even from whom? You don't even have an enemy, but you, you craving to suffer, craving to watch yourself wriggling, like a trapped fish, yet acting as if you could swim away. You can’t get away, not when you have chosen the path of suffering, chosen to worship your wounds. You crave for air sitting in your rat hole, and you suffocate once the fresh air hits you. You have given up on life, yet life clings to you like an obsessed lover, while the death awaits you around.  You could weep and yet the tears would elude you. You are guilty, guilty of being a manipulator who thought he could see through the rule of the night. You have sold yourself to the darkness, yet you expect yourself to be seen in the light of the day, what mockery you make of your own. Oh! Do you not know that you don’t get to choose your own conviction? You have no other option but to face your shadows, shadows that come alive at dusk, and remind you of your nakedness, your vulnerable flesh and bones, expose you of your dirty lies, make you taste your own blood and overwhelm you. The wounds that you worship are bound to turn into ghosts that haunt you. The heat gets unbearable, drowning in your own sweat, you scream; only to end up being buried in that void, hollowness of your voice suffocates you, breathes burns you, your own smell disgusts you, yet the endless abyss accepts you. You don’t die, remember, you are never to die, but to suffer. Forever, alas!”