Re: The Truths We Create
Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2021 4:11 am
== Dr. Sunshine Is Dead ==
* * *
He had been sitting in the same spot long enough to lose track of time, his back against a half ruined wall as he stared at the shifting black and grey sky above through the smoke of his cigarette. He had expected company, at some point, although he didn't exactly care about that possibility, but when he had not been disturbed for hours, unaware of his invisible guardians, he simply stopped worrying about it and returned to drown in his thoughts.
He was almost certain he had fallen into reverie, at some point, but no memories came to him, only the torpor and the numbness: it was in that state of dazed paralysis that his mind kept running, dwelling more and more in the vortex of bitterness that the revelation from earlier had tossed him into.
It was true, there was no way out. It really didn't matter whether he struggled or not, didn't matter whether he lived or died. Like an insect, his role in the grand scheme of things didn't depend on any of that. And he shouldn't have cared about it, so why did that notion make him feel so powerless?
Why did it hurt, when he wasn't supposed to feel it at all?
And as he pondered how even giving himself up to the plane didn't have the same appeal it had once upon a time, the bleak, self destructive thoughts folded on themselves, changing shape and showing him something he had failed noticing until then.
It was at that point that he realized he had the solution already in his hands, disguised as self preservation. He had had it the whole time, but he had been hesitating taking it.
He felt coldness wash over him as his lips slowly stretched in a smile, and all of a sudden he felt good.
That was it. That was exactly how he was going to give meaning to his Existence.
By achieving the only thing that he was denied now.
Choice. Oblivion.
* * *
He had been sitting in the same spot long enough to lose track of time, his back against a half ruined wall as he stared at the shifting black and grey sky above through the smoke of his cigarette. He had expected company, at some point, although he didn't exactly care about that possibility, but when he had not been disturbed for hours, unaware of his invisible guardians, he simply stopped worrying about it and returned to drown in his thoughts.
He was almost certain he had fallen into reverie, at some point, but no memories came to him, only the torpor and the numbness: it was in that state of dazed paralysis that his mind kept running, dwelling more and more in the vortex of bitterness that the revelation from earlier had tossed him into.
It was true, there was no way out. It really didn't matter whether he struggled or not, didn't matter whether he lived or died. Like an insect, his role in the grand scheme of things didn't depend on any of that. And he shouldn't have cared about it, so why did that notion make him feel so powerless?
Why did it hurt, when he wasn't supposed to feel it at all?
And as he pondered how even giving himself up to the plane didn't have the same appeal it had once upon a time, the bleak, self destructive thoughts folded on themselves, changing shape and showing him something he had failed noticing until then.
It was at that point that he realized he had the solution already in his hands, disguised as self preservation. He had had it the whole time, but he had been hesitating taking it.
He felt coldness wash over him as his lips slowly stretched in a smile, and all of a sudden he felt good.
That was it. That was exactly how he was going to give meaning to his Existence.
By achieving the only thing that he was denied now.
Choice. Oblivion.