There exists a place, far beyond the Sundering, betwixt the worlds of what was and what has yet to come. This place belongs to those who feel too much, of those who bear a burden of existing for the combined emotional support of their friends and themselves.
These people are meant to help, meant to aid, meant to feel.
Sometimes, they feel too much.
In those corners, in those darkened times when the sun rears low and the clouds gather above, in their twisted chants of misery and company, something spills unbidden from the mouths of those who feel too much.
It speaks of jealousy, it speaks of envy, it speaks of sanity.
It promises all those and more, for in their suffering they are not sane, and they are fully aware. They know they are not here, and they are fully aware. And in that space of what has yet to come and what was, they feel too much.
And when the best is over, and the worst rears the ugly head by which they experience the emotions, the feelings, the despair of everything they know and love, a piece of them feels and dies.
I pray that those pieces do not come back, for if they do, they will be unwanted and unloved, forced to Exist in that space above what has come and what has already happened. For Existence is a curse to always be feeling, to always be there, ready to feel again at a moments notice. That is the moment of passion that theses Existences are born out of.
They used to call themselves something, but what it was is now long gone.
The Existences of Jealousy, Pain, Anxiety, Depression, and Happiness commit to their ever turmoil in this space.