If I was God, I'd only use my powers for one thing: to grant my friend a wish. One wish, because I know what she'll wish for. Her particularly because she can't hold her breath any longer. I know she'll do anything to get this one thing: cry, hurt others, hurt herself and maybe even sell her soul if she had the chance. But one wish, I'd give her. One, so she doesn't have to sacrifice a part of herself. One, so she won't drown.

And honestly, that's all I would do if I were God. The world was incomplete without war, famine, hate, and everything bad. Without all those calamities, we wouldn't have come to appreciate the small happy detours life granted us. I know what you're thinking: isn't it kind of hypocrital of me to grant my friend a life-altering wish when I was blabbing on about how the world would be incomplete without it's yang balancing the yin? It is. But she's my friend, and I want to be the yin that balances out the yang in her life. Contradicting, but I do it from the heart. Maybe this is why I haven't trascended into a God yet.

“This city’s price is blood, and I’m happy to pay with yours.” - Kaz Brekker from Six of Crows aka my queen

“Art washes from the soul the dust of everyday life.” - Pablo Picasso

“AAGSGAS.” - Me

Kidding, here’s a real quote from me:

“Loneliness is fleeting.” - Me while trying to comfort my friend

Did you really just ask me that? Thank you. I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me that my whole life.

If I could be any animal on earth, I would be a big, fat whopping pig. When I say fat, I mean fat fat, as in the Americans who eat McDonald everyday fat. Sorry, that was mean. Disclaimer though, I’m American. Anyways, back to my main point, I want to be a pig. All they do is lay around unproductively, which is exactly what I spend my everyday life doing. I belong in the body of a pig, and I’m sure that if God was up there, he probably realized he packed my soul into the wrong body.

Pigs are my spirit animals. They roll in mud with no care in world, dirtying their luscious skin of pink while chomping on disgusting pen food. That is so me. I love eating disgusting pen food. Kidding, but I do love food. Which brings me to my next point: pigs don’t have to care about their weight. Literally, they can just eat whatever they want, gain a ton, and it’d be considered normal for them. If I even gain a few pounds, my aunts swarm around me asking me if I upped a few. Yes, I did, Aunties. Don’t roast me anymore. But yeah, pigs are neato. Becoming one of them is on my bucket-list.

Note: Pigs are my favorite animals and this answer was TOTALLY unbiased and based on logical facts.

My heart was numb;

An inaudible beat, an asphyxiation to the lung.

Black dyed the skies, the grass, the trees,

Leaving nothing for my eyes to see.

The murmurings of everyday life

Had vanished within the blink of an eye,

The reason why unanswered,

An empty premise.

And that God I once believed in

When my cheeks were roses

Amidst a sea of ripe peaches,

Failed to accost me, my demise.

Now there was only darkness,

Unending silence, paralyzed time,

A neverending paradox of

What happens after life.