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Description
The flesh is tender and hurting. A single movement cause discomfort and even no function at all (except for the silent chemical and mechanical bodily reactions) is a softly painful feeling. But especially the used and ragged, connecting to the eyes that ache in ways that no one can understand except for the user who confusedly recalls the feeling from before; almost as if the eyes are rejecting the body they were born with. The brain that remains ragged and worn is in fact a brain that is one hundred years old implanted into the body of an exhausted and life-exasperated twenty-year-old.
There are many days of late when the supposed young human feels several, several years beyond her age. She does not know why, because she hasn't nearly lived the hectic tornado of high academia or late, non-sleep hours slaving to draw out money from the circulating ocean of society. No work and no experience and no over doing like many others have. So why is her body feeling this way?
Why does her soul-light flicker?
Why does her body wither?
Why is the air getting thicker?
And why does no one else feel it? Surely there are others who feel their spirits retreating into the core and leave the flesh to function for itself?
But without spiritual guidance it is too risky to find the perfect one who absolutely doesn't care at all what you are or what happens.
Crumbling.
Withering.
Drifting.
Gone.
Why am I still here? Probably because being removed from this world--leaving everyone behind while I take the cloud express away from it--is absolutely unfair. But I just get older faster and soul fainter every time I even think of leading others...but I must.

Description
The flesh is tender and hurting. A single movement cause discomfort and even no function at all (except for the silent chemical and mechanical bodily reactions) is a softly painful feeling. But especially the used and ragged, connecting to the eyes that ache in ways that no one can understand except for the user who confusedly recalls the feeling from before; almost as if the eyes are rejecting the body they were born with. The brain that remains ragged and worn is in fact a brain that is one hundred years old implanted into the body of an exhausted and life-exasperated twenty-year-old.
There are many days of late when the supposed young human feels several, several years beyond her age. She does not know why, because she hasn't nearly lived the hectic tornado of high academia or late, non-sleep hours slaving to draw out money from the circulating ocean of society. No work and no experience and no over doing like many others have. So why is her body feeling this way?
Why does her soul-light flicker?
Why does her body wither?
Why is the air getting thicker?
And why does no one else feel it? Surely there are others who feel their spirits retreating into the core and leave the flesh to function for itself?
But without spiritual guidance it is too risky to find the perfect one who absolutely doesn't care at all what you are or what happens.
Crumbling.
Withering.
Drifting.
Gone.
Why am I still here? Probably because being removed from this world--leaving everyone behind while I take the cloud express away from it--is absolutely unfair. But I just get older faster and soul fainter every time I even think of leading others...but I must.