The goddam light is so bright, it’s like you’ve never seen a goddam light before, and all the “lights” you’ve been exposed your whole fucking life have been a lie. Everyone’s seen the testimonials on t.v.- those poor sons of bitches who brushed shoulders with the reaper, who grazes your hair on the back of your neck and yet for some reason, your sorry ass back to the prison that has become Earth. Some call it mercy, others a miracle- but I call it a curse. My name been scrawled in the Gatekeeper’s book since the day the doctor whacked me on my bare ass after I refused to cry. Maybe my eyes just needed time to adjust to the florescent lights. Or perhaps, I was dead before I was even alive.
Not a cloud of locusts, or no raining toads could have prepared them. They happily would have traded for one hundred years of darkness, boils the size of golf balls, bloody Ocean tides, slaughtered first-borns, anything- for my heart to have stopped beating right then and there. Fools- they deserved this Fate. It was only a matter of time anyway.
Fuck blind leading the blind- this is one deaf motherfucker hand in hand with a deaf and dumb motherfucker. I mean Jesus, let a lightning bolt strike and kill all these poor bastards, and do them a favor- put them out of their misery. Mindless, mindless beings- existing for the sheer reason that they don’t know how to do anything except exist. They have no purpose, no hope, no desire, no drive- alas, no real, concrete reason. They don’t even enjoy it- they bustle around, day in and day out, working to support their livelihood, going to school to learn some more about the art of working, eating, cleansing, interacting with others who do the exact same thing, sleeping, regretfully rising, repeating the cycle. And this is it? What’s the fucking point then? Breathing doesn’t automatically make one human- feeling however, does. That’s why I’m not one of them. And the ability to feel, is what defines the act of being human.
They say one only sees the light twice in a lifetime- once in the beginning, and second, at the end. Darkness engulfs your peripherals, forming a black hole in your vision, while the light at the end of the tunnel gets brighter and brighter every second. The light is blinding, yet you can’t look away- you have no where else to look. It’s hypnotizing, yet frightening- is it showing you something, like a path? Do you walk toward it, or wait for it to come to you? You are alone- no counsel, nobody to give advice. You are there for yourself- as you have been ultimately, all along. Did I do right- you think. Please, someone reassure me that I left my mark, that someone will remember my name, or what I tried to do for others? Am I ready to finally see what is beyond this life- to venture back where I came from. This light that brought me into this world, must now act as the vessel to ship me out- my time is up, so I must’ve done something right. Or wrong. How precious life is- you spend your entire life living, to find that in your final moments, you were doing it wrong all along. Wasted, fleeting, and gone just like that- your blackboard, snuffed out by Fate’s dusty eraser- because you broke your piece of chalk years ago, and ain’t no use gluing together a broken piece of chalk. The light looms closer- it is time. And I begin to walk. For the first time in my life, I did not seek death- it found me.