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I do not like the word nothing. This word should not exist. The word is over used, and all to often a misrepresentation. It is not something that can exist. Even in a vacuum you still have something. If it is it and can be labeled it is something. Therefore for someone to say I have nothing, or there is nothing there is a deception. Don't neglect the something that you actually have, and negate it by calling it nothing. It's that very something that may make all the difference. Don't abandon hope by saying there is nothing that can help, because really and truly there is something, somewhere.

I have known you for 30 years, I trusted you like a foreigner trusts a guide, like a student trusts a teacher, or a child trusts a parent. Your betrayal left bitter water flowing through my substance. What was going through your mind, what is this in your heart that has corrupted your members to do such a thing? They are children for crying out loud. Not even quite 3 years old, just a week prior to their annual celebration, you have caused them, O’ such innocent souls, to experience the horrors that your species has to offer. Has your land been so dry, that you would seek out in desperation to violate this innocence? The experience of the death that lurks amidst the battlefields of old would not be such a violation of decency as this intention manifested. Lost forever you will now be destined to torment; I will see to it that you continue to regret your own filthiness even beyond the shedding of your mortal mobile.

From the way I speak of your foul smelling blood you may think I hate you, its not that. My heart is heavy burdened for you as I watch you all on your unhappy masquerade striving to not meet the inevitable. Slowing the process of life departing as you suffer organ failure. I almost admire your will to suffer. What is it that makes you hold on? Is this a selfless act you do for your loved ones, or is it selfishness born out of fear of the unknown? Nonetheless I find it repulsive, that stomach turning stench of your corrupted blood. That machine you caress daily will not grant you immortality, one day the inevitable will knock at the door and you will be compelled to answer, and you will have no choice but to invite deaths humble servant in. So as it stands I wish you well as the machines work day on and day out cleansing your corrupted blood.

Stepping into the room for the first time it was an experience to never be forgotten. Lined up in rows you all sat like cattle hooked to a milking machine. It was the first thing that hit me, like a morning star to the olfactory nerve, what is that pungent stench? Oh no its not, but yes it actually is the smell of many of people who have had their life force purged and returned in a recurring weekly cycle. Your corrupted blood too filthy to drink, I would be better off drinking the water of the mighty Mississippi or of the Jordan river. I have smelled rotting flesh that has been decaying for days in the summer that had become one with the furniture it sat in, but nothing compares to the stench of your corrupted blood.