A Letter to Others

Dear readers,

Let me place you into my mind. I have spoken with many people, animals, objects, Gods, and the dead. I have lost myself in my mind, and I have been lost in the minds of others. If the world were a pea I would squash it putting an end to this stage for which others use to boast out loud their personal triumphs, or they use it to put down the weak and kill them so that everyone can see the strength of the destroyer. Ah, what a fine stage this world is for the glorious materially enriched to exemplify that you are nothing more than the dirt they walk on.
A chamber of lies, I feel entrapped. Laughingly I hold my hand in front of me, FAKE! How is this real? Only because I see it? Then I bite my hand which in turn my conscience reports that indeed this hand, real or not, is apart of me and these messages are relaid by the pain I inflict on myself.
This reminds me of a sad antidote I hear often; You only know that your real by the pain you feel. Sad souls love to use this line. Embracing theirs woes that which numbs their emotions. Therefore is pain the only cure to feeling existence? HA! What a over used idea, and a pity so many follow this mind set. Only if some crazed loony where to come behind them with a feather and tickle the back of their neck. HA! They couldn't help but laugh. I am sure of it, and what would they make of that? True one can not help feeling the razor cutting the flesh, but isn't true that one can not help to feel being tickled?
Readers I leave you with some food for your minds. Why is it when we want to feel we always seek pain to ensure our existence, when a laugh from a tickle can and will ensure our existence in times of worry and woe. Why must we always continue to look down when we fall?