A Suspect!

I was a suspect who wished to live. They thought I would be a nuance in their lives.

Anyway, I am still alive. Counting days and wondering if I will be able to mark another day in my calender as a day I lived, is a humorous misapplication with life. My living is an occurrence of sufficient roles and their alternatives. If I had to play by the norms they imposed…none of the characters would see the light of the day. And for that matter of fact, nobody would be able to blame me a suspect. But there are enuogh elbow room for everybody except me to impute that I am indeed the suspect. They suspect me for everything.

The notoriety of being a suspect has been multiplied by my consistent disbelief of me being a suspect.

I assume, I was mistakenly attributed a suspect.