Curse.

An old amusement park, sidewalks covered in dead leaves, faded candy wrappers scattered around, littering the corners where wind can't reach with it's cold fingers, plush toys splattered with blood, their inanimate plastic eyes glowing from withing with malice, sinister expressions frozen on the faces that were meant to bring joy. Booths empty, shards of broken glass that remain in the windows bring an image of a vicious grin of some creature that could only be born from nightmare. Colors that once were bright and cheerful now all look the same brownish-grey, like rot, paint peeling off everything, falling off in flakes. Not a sound to be heard aside from creaking of old rides and wind rustling through the branches of now bare trees. One color remains vibrant. Red. I keep seeing red, at times almost as if someone pulled a film of that color over my eyes. Feeling of dread follows my every step, thick as a morning fog, so close and heavy, i can almost touch it. Place of childhood, once place of happiness, long forgotten and unused, i haven't been here for decades. Or was it millennia? It's hard to keep track of time when one is immortal.

Ages pass me by, images come and go, nights and days fade into blackness some call past. My memory, however, can not hold that much, and i constantly have to make myself forget what i knew in order to learn new things. Some memories i part with feeling nothing, useless clatter i burn with no feelings. Others are harder to let go. Yet world beckons, calls me to follow, reaches out to me. I wish it would stop once in a while and let me rest, for it is beginning to feel like i am no longer controlling fate of this world. Time waits for no-one, they say. On sleepless night i wonder, though if that is true. I see more and more proof of the opposite around. History repeating itself over and over again, closed pattern of events, circle that can never be broken, like an old record stuck in a loop, playing the same part of song endlessly. There is no time.

Oh, how i longed to bring back the time when i was young and eager to learn. How foolish i was and naive. I believed that once the gift of never fearing death was mine, i will come to the point where i know all there is to know. Help others. Fix the world. Instead i learned that my mind grows weaker, that the world is beyond repair, was beyond repair from the very beginning. Most valuable thing i learned was that this is "The Way Things Are".

I fought, i screamed, i hated and loved. I tried. World always won, every time. And i find myself coming back time and again to this old amusement park that no longer amuses anyone, but me.

I always found that irony is not without sense of humor...