Story time

  • Let me tell you a story. A story about how death is not to be feared or hated. But how their is the walking dead. No I'm no fucking zombie or vampire. The walking dead is simply a husk, a shell, a broken soul. Not hungry for brain's or meat but hungry to feel something. The bright side of being such a good dam fucking none existing soul is after enough time you don't feel much pain. Except for the pain you want... The dark side is how that cold numbing feeling of being alone eats at you bit by bit till you forget what being alive or human is. The sad side is how the only thing their for you is the darkness. So what the hell is the point of living!? Good question but the twist of this twisted little story....... I'm the walking dead...