Be

To begin with there once was a kid named

Mat. He was three years old during war time. World War One that is. Terrible time it was. He didn't know the confines which bounded him with nature and what the war had to do with it. He used syntax that was simple as well as inhaling and exhaling along with a jingle he remembered to cope as a coping mechanism. So as the war grew, so did his misconceptions about the world, the world he knew it to be. Then the midst of the thoughts of expression lingered in. As soon as he began to question himself, he knew from that point on time would fly only if he stopped to think about what would prolong discomforted instances. A day in the life: I woke up out of my bed brushed my teeth. With excitement I hoped into the shower, slipped and died. I woke up before a Judge to cast me down into the pits of the worst. No it was fucking annihilation. Excuse my language, Very necessary. Luckily I didn't go to heaven which was the other choice. The pits sort of turned out to be heaven. Angels approached with danger. Danger or so it may have seemed. It was!