Obituary

Every story has an ending. Some have happy one. But some of the greatest, end tragically. Well, maybe not always. But more often than not.

I am, like every one of you reading this, a mere human. I have my limits. If you trip me, I'll stumble, and maybe even fall. If you stab me, I'll bleed.

And when we see the end nearing, we done one from a handful of things. Run and hide, take it as it comes, or maybe bring help.

The end, however, is inevitable. And no amout of preparation, no thickness of armour, will ever be enough.

A writer cannot write without a muse.

A writer cannot exist without a muse. And this writer refuses to find another muse.

I may manage without my muse. But I made a promise, a promise I still wish to keep. But, if things go on like this, it'll be a promise I will be unable to keep.

I cannot put anyone through any sort of pain. Not at least, for ME.

I'm sorry, but that's the way I was raised.

I don't need to be fixed. I don't WaNT to be fixed.

Therefore, today a story ends. And a good man, or a part of him is dead.

R. Is Dead!