I never deserved flesh. That is not to be stated in self-deprecation, but rather with a general hatred for the form I was born in. It was not mine. It was never mine. It was a form granted to me, given to me by the shitty hand of God.

Of course, leaving that vessel was the best thing to ever happen to me. Now I am amorphous, a concept, the shadow on the wall that stares you down as you lie frozen in sleep paralysis. When people describe me as being fog-like...there is this strange sense of euphoria that comes with it. I am fog, I am nothing. I am a cloud and I am the absence of light. Everything makes sense now.

I was meant to creep, slink, and drift. I was never meant to walk.

I don't even need to look as humanoid as I am. I can change shape, you know. I can look worse or better than this. Nonetheless, I stay this way. This is how I like it best.

I am the shade. I am the dark side of the moon. I sound pompous, I know. But given my circumstances, don't I have to?

I don't know. All I'd like to say is that I'd always take being a figure over being human.