it seems like nothing i do works out, i am completely talentless, yet they say i am gifted, there is nothing i can't learn but there is nothing that i seek.
I have never worked a day in my long 25 years of life, oh i am so old, in my heart i know that any work i do i will do it perfectly but i don't really know how to ask for work, It seems that i am not really a person, maybe i see everyone as inferior or maybe everyone is just supirior to me, I can't ask for a job after all.
As i sit at my make-shift camp, i stare into the fire, it feels so warm, warmth makes me appreciate life because it's truly beautiful, it makes me feel so good in the cold days, oh fire, thank you for existing and thank you for making my skin happy.
I sharpen my sword, if it doesn't cut my enemies in a single swing, it's useless to me and it knows it, my trusty sword, as it reflects my eyes i look into it, the sword is using my determination as a message to look into me, it stares back, reminding me of all the blood on my hands but i feel no guilt, everyone i kill has killed innocents.
Ah i miss that black haired beauty at that village, she gave me her body as a thanks for saving her whole family, what a figure, flat stomach and perky tits, let alone her big eyes, i miss her, time to sleep, maybe I'll dream of her.