They hate me.

They hate a man completely incapable of remembering his own birth name. They hate a man whose life seems, to them, to be completely worthless. They hate a man whose sole reason for existing is a mistake made long ago. They hate a man who has existed amongst them for hundreds of years.

I know they hate me. I know the reason their hatred of me is so intense. I know the blackness they perceive in me. I know the pain they will never suffer. I know the death they will never experience. I know the lifelessness they will never endure.

They will continue to hate me. They will continue to protest my existence. They will continue to deem me antichrist. They will continue to attempt to destroy me with the name of murderer.

I have done no wrong. I have done nothing to deserve this eternal damnation I live through.

I do not know what I did in my previous life – or even who I was. I do not know how I became such as I am today. I do not know anything before I was awoken.

I wish to sleep. I wish to love. I wish to be loved by even just one. I wish to be happy. I wish to be respected, rather than feared.

My life has no meaning to me. My life has no meaning to them.

But it will never end, despite any effort on my part to convince them.