I see you in my violent slumbers, in which I weep; why, I ask; why must I not remember? I wish to remember; I can feel the memories of our aeons old love fleeting behind a glass wall, forever unheard and unseen. Who was I, before this life? Before those few that I remember? Why force me into this insufferable prison of a body? I wish to live as a fox, or lynx again; I did not ask for this. If I had not met one particular being I would still walk this planet thinking I had gone insane; thinking I was experiencing hallucinations all these years.
Yet, despite knowing the truth, I cannot see it. I cannot see what they see; cannot freely talk to anyone besides my own demons that I have conjured in my mind. Why do they laugh so? Why do they make me weep, and cry, and fall back two steps when I struggle to climb just one?
I wish to hate the universe; maybe I already do. But, if it is not the universe that cursed me, then who did? Which higher being is behind my pain? Or maybe I did this myself?
No, I wouldn't have.
A sign, I suppose, is my soul wanting out all this time; my soul driving my mind to insanity so I could free it from this body. Washed by a crimson river, it wishes to escape.