If I could unclench these brick teeth of mine, I would tell you a tale of despair my friend. However, I remain frozen, so you will have to have quite an imagination or an abundance of hallucinogenics to fully lament over the context of the conversation we will have. I've come to terms with how I will remain for the rest of my existence, but perhaps you will agree that this settling is easily as despairing if not more so then the reason why I pass this on to you.
To start things off, let me tell you how I was came to be. I had such promise when I was growing up. I was raised on a cliff on the southern end of an island overlooking the sea in south Ireland, and as such, never knew what ugly was from an early age. I knew that pain existed, but had never had to be around it. I had many friends, I was surrounded by a crowd, and I even had humans that lived near me.
It sounds like a good life doesn't it? Keep on listening my friend, keep listening. Assigning "good or evil" to objects isn't a game I care to play in, nor is this an easy feat; if I had to choose a single inanimate object to deem evil, time itself would be my candidate. Feeling the people who maintained me grow old and weak, and slowly pass away was like feeling my heart die over and over again. Even through the walls I've built up over the years, I still can feel sadness seep through when I realize that I've lost count.
When you finally understand that those responsible for this joy you experience will fade away, but that you won't, you begin to feel hurt. When you finally realize that there will never be an exception to this rule, and all you can do is sit back and watch, you feel something else entirely different. You can no longer hurt because you start to lose that ability to feel in the first place. Only dim reminders tense up for moments before swirling back into subconscious.
I had decided after some time, that perhaps I could change my focus from those that maintained me, and could instead befriend those that were involved in my work. I gave warning to those that traveled near me of how treacherous my cliff could be; my terrible, wonderful little cliff. I would wave to them, and to my delight, they would wave back. I had made friends, friends that seemed to appreciate me. Does this sound like a happy ending? Keep on reading my friend. Please keep reading.
With my focus on the sea, I realized that the crowd I was constantly surrounded with would venture near me, but would only stay a second before drifting back the direction they came. Why did these faceless crowds hate me so? Could they not see my warning of the cliff? It wasn't my fault... It might have gotten to me had my friends not been there to wave at me, and let me come to terms that the crowds won't like me, and that I didn't need them too anyway.
This confidence boost worked the same way it did with humans, which if you don't know by now is an unfortunate lie. After awhile, my wandering mind realized that my "friends" had never actually came near to see me. Why wouldn't my own friends come see me? I became frustrated. Keep on reading my friend, the end isn't too far off.
There was a terrible storm one night. The crowds would bubble up near me feet, and jump to spit on me. I couldn't have possibly been blamed for becoming frustrated, could I? I had almost lost my cool when I saw a friend of mine wave to me on the horizon. Perhaps it was the crowds blatant disrespect that pushed me, or perhaps it was my curiosity. Either way, I didn't wave back this time. I watched as my friend came nearer to me; his wave blinking out as patches of rough rain shrouded him. I watched anxiously as he got close, but still I didn't wave back. I just sat back and watched, everything grew tense. He was only moments from reaching me when I waved back, but it was just too late. My friend crashed into the cliff side; pieces of his body washed up to lay at my feet. I had killed one of my friends, I had.
I could never be close to my friends, but they were as sure as dead if I ever gave up waving to them. You humans are good at adapting to anything unpleasant, but I would like to say that I have perfected it. Even up until today I have continued to wave on my friends and the years. I've come to terms with my existence, and tonight I will finally be allowed some rest. They are tearing me down, and replacing me with somebody else. Some other poor sap that will have to carry this world on his shoulders even after they break. Some other poor sap that will eventually pass his torch on to another poor sap.
I've said my piece my friend. I do hope you are a human, otherwise this message will never truly be given the emotion it deserves. The lord knows I cannot give it any, any longer. I've had my heart stopped a million times, I have been spit at since I was born, and I have even killed those close to me that would have had a chance otherwise. Is it sad that I find solace in finally being able to lay down and just cease to exist? Perhaps my friend, but then again, I have lived a sad life no? What a more fitting way to end. Take care of those dear to you my friend, it's only a matter of time before you yourself will have to lay down, and I can only hope you get more dignity and less regrets then I have in the process. Good bye.
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