The Universe

Let’s take a moment to consider the universe. It’s all encompassing and yet completely separate. Everything is me. All that has ever been or is are funneled through me. Anything that will be doesn’t exist if I don’t exist. Isn’t that beautiful and terrible. I am the gardener of this world. If I remove the energy from those that poison me they lose all their power. I pluck all of their little lilacs of vitriol. But as I shear, the petals become mulch to feed the Vitex that is me. This cruel tree that is the core of my mind. It’s branches are neurons that fire a creeping self loathing into my soul. Try as I might I can not separate myself from it’s roots. My fingers bloody from clawing at the dirt around it’s base I stare up at the budding flowers of my being exhausted and defeated. I can not cure myself of this pain without ending the universe.

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