Other diarrhea or diary. (A story)

Other diarrhea or diary. (A story)

I am an artist and a writer, arts i am good at, doings that make me feel good. I write a kind of diary on the internet, all feelings and thoughts, if i had any feelings and thoughts. I am a living mirror to the world, everyone i meet, every place i go to, reading and writing everything down to get it of my chest. Discovering past and peresent anger, fear, regret, frustration and i pen it down, mental diarrhea for the crowd that happens to stumble on my writings of an Other life. It sounds sad now, but i do not know sadness, i only know the sadness of humans and all their other feelings, even their thoughts and i write them down when they touch me. Mental diarrhea disguised as talk about spirituality and change, i changed a long time ago, left my human form a long time ago, i remember that kid that was so affraid and lost, no one to talk too, now i don’t talk about it to anyone, don’t feel the need, but it is easy to write about my and our lives, as i hover over human lives, mirroring lives, for some i am crystal, for some i am black, green or purple obsidian, a mirror they do like to look in to because it shows weaknessess, the mirror is hurtfull if the being is not strong or on par with the Other world. The voice of the mirror is harsh, she is harsh, she demands discipline, she demands some kind of purity, i can laugh about it these days, back in the day they would run for me, hate me for being there, being pure, honest, direct, innocent as a child, a child with a scalpel, cutting away all the veils and showing all the hidden wounds that could be changed in to strengths, my mission !? If i only knew what that word meant, i am just a wave rider and a very good one, those who try to follow still can’t understand, only Others do and leave me alone, knowing what wave i am riding, on the road to nowhere which is Infinity.

An end.