I looked over my shoulder and saw what I believed to be fire, it was surrounding me. I felt fear inside me and I could not move. Yet, I went out to feel it. You were there outside of this ring but you just stood there with a blank expression on your face, you were lethargic. Yesterday, though it really wasn't, was better than I realized, only then I should have been grateful for what I had. But instead, I never truly gave a shit about what happened to others or to an extent, myself. I was weak, a little bitch, as my father and his father before him would say. Couldn't wait to leave this shithole they called sovereignty. Fuck them, they don't understand. Livin' the american dream. U S Fuckin' A. I thought it was the eye of god that would become reborn inside a sucide bar until there was this prescence of perennial nauseating fear. Never thought that through; this stream of consciousness could pick it up to figure out why such supposed esoteric truths would surface in such a poignant manner that would be adhesive yet so far away. It's like tasting your own blood, metallic and self mutilating. I woke up and felt disgusted, never hoping to feel that sentiment ever again.