Look at me. I am a filthy monster. I sit atop my mountain tearing apart my own flesh, wishing my cells would perish right there. They grow back, horrid beings. The whites of their eyes have turned to ash. Horrors; my own creation. I slaughter them. I tear them apart in hope they perish too; they do. I sit.Confined in my own mind. Happy thoughts. My ears bleed. I hold them, trying not to bother any other organism with my own pain. But my ears, they over flow. They burst. Creating agonizing pain, I rip my flesh from bones once more. They multiply; I slaughter. This goes on for what seems to be eternity. What I would give to end it all. To save myself from creating little horrors. To save my horrors from certain death by my own hands. Some form of life from down below should end mine, for I am hollow and wretched. I am not worth anything on this beautiful earth. My soul has ended. End me.