I don’t know if I can make it to wherever I am going. It is so cold, yet I can’t feel anything against my skin. It feels like a warm summer night, the dark orange sky makes me feel like a ghost. Maybe I am nothing, walking on top of a snow mountain in the middle of winter. Am I crazy? Because right now it seems like I am dying. But I’m not. I’m still here, but where is here? The top of a mountain, where sharp wooden trees shadow me in the dark. I am gone, like a spirit floating in the mist. What am I? Who am I? I don’t remember. The waves of gray and orange flow through me like the wind brushing my long hair over my dead eyes. Who are you? Why is the sky so pale, why does it make me feel like I am not existent, or never was. If there is an earth why has it made me so much like an illusion, could I be real? What is snow? What is the sky? Is there something that knows all of this? Why am I heaving my way across a crisp mountain while snow buries my legs? I am closing my eyes, my soul is leaving me behind. I push my bare feet along the solid white, the white glistens among the faint sky. As I push my legs harder the orange becomes distant, why is it now turning a horrid gray? Help me god, if there even is a god. Maybe satan is my friend. Maybe that is why I am so frail in life and death. Can I ever understand snow or dirt? Hell or heaven. It is out of my reach. Everything is out of my reach. I am no longer human, maybe I am jesus. I don’t existence in life or death. I have never learned anything. Where am I? Who am I? How can you become this walking among lifeless snow, and the pale dark sky, shadowed by the wooden trees who killed my soul? Everything took my soul and make it a speck of dirt. How can you be life? How are you death if you took a soul and made it life? It does not exist. You cannot believe, you cannot give up. You are nothing. Please do not tell me I am something. I am so close to the edge of the mountain, there is music coming to my ears. Everything is so beautiful, it is making me understand who I am. Maybe I am something. But what? I can feel my nude body fall and pass to the fragile snow, it looks powerful, can snow take control? I open my eyes and they feel red, like blood has took its place inside of me. Am I blood? I used to know who i was. But I have forgotten. It’s so close, but I don’t want to remember I want to feel as though forever I have never existed. No! Please let me go, the darkness, the sharp teeth can over power me, the pale eyes, and the fading sky can be my place. There is no such magic as a radiant orange, or a controlling, gentle white. Soul, you are almost there. don’t let me break. I am shaking, my blood teared eyes gaze up and take its stare upon the light. Its a strange light, eccentric, I can almost feel it. Can I finally feel again? Who am I? It’s a black sky now, I can’t see my place anywhere. Where are the murdering trees, why am I not nude anymore? It’s a squeezing light, screaming for me. It could be pleading for me, it could have been for such a long time. I am breaking free. My eyes are not blood. The waves of light, not the waves of frail, cold wind along my cheeks. I feel it, its warmth on my face. A tear of light, of something new, of something I always knew I had. I know who I am. I am a soul. It is pure water, I smile in amazement. Snow or dirt? Break me, somewhere I whisper. I look behind me as my hands dig deeper in the white, but I still do not feel cold, I am held in the warm summer night. The wind must have carried my voice.