Sniperwhere

He simply walked alone. He didn't know where he went or why he walked, he just did. He carried all he had: a hat, a cane, and a weathered jacket just barely keeping him warm. His bird perched on his arm was his only companion. It was cold out. Snow lay on the ground, and the trees were dry and leafless, dead from the frost. He looked at them as he passed, thinking about how fitting a path he's chosen, recalling his past and it's relation to the dead tree's and lifeless plains that surrounded him. His thoughts went back to the war; to the battleground in which he lost all he loved. It was snowing then too, but back then, it was red, not white

It's no secret that the world is a terrible place. Violence, murder, rape, drugs, and much more. It runs our lives, actions; everything. The moment you step outside, this is obvious. The disgusting haze of pollution that hovers over the world, forever ready to rain down it's horrors onto an already blighted world. But the worst? Everyone knows, but nobody cares. I took a walk the other day. I went out into this world for a reason I, myself, can't yet figure out. Maybe it was to find a solution. Maybe I was searching for a small glint of hope. Maybe I was just braving the storm of insanity. I'm not sure. But I went out and observed the world.