How Carrie did loathe this. To be treated only as a piece of meat. Carrie knew that
I love her for her. I loved her for her pure childlike heart. For her inner beauty as
well as what was on the outside. This always gave her a radiance and beauty that even
the heavenly angels themselves stood in awe of.
But you! You chosen few who chose to make her life and her livelihood a living hell.
You I blame for her death! You were the ones who called and showed up to get her upset
to the point of depression. The ones who got her so upset as to the point of being
careless. The ones who made my Carrie lose all hope, no matter how hard I tried to
reassure her.
I’ve come to conclude that once hope is gone, we are no longer human. We become
something that merely tries to survive on sheer instinct. This race never actually
developed to homosapien from Neanderthal – we are still there. We strive to contradict
today what was religiously upheld yesterday. Yet we still consider ourselves, the
human species, superior. Superior to what?
Life is nothing more than a series of mundane gestures and idiotic thoughts put
into motion. But, I digress. I am getting away from the main topic; my Carrie. Perhaps
I am going mad. Random thoughts in incoherent patterns. Voices calling to me from beyond
this world of distinction. Surely these are the rantings of a madman.
from "Rantings of a Madman"
by T.L.Canipe
pages 2 & 3
