Not-a-thing.


Tormorrow may never come. Today may never end. Yesterday might have never been done.

How do you know? There are memories, there are hard proofs, but how do you know it is true, not just made a nanosecond ago?

To some, this world might have just been empty. To many, this world might as well just be a couple of square miles wide. To many, sky with not be the limit, just their rooftops, or worse, the ceilings of the rooms and cages they made of themselves.



My cage is about a thousand cubic inches, surrounded by a dome of bone and layers of muscle and skin. I wonder if anyone had ever left their mark on me?

I wonder.

I forget.

I do not care.


I wish I care. I wish I never care.
Am I human? Do I want to be human? But living among human, what could you be if not human?


~underthiscruelceruleansky