Thursday, January 20, 2011

Story: Realization Three

It took me some time to even just reappear, but somehow I managed. Straight to business, though. The next realization is somewhat more "normal". It tackles the topic of perception. Well, that and the fact that the solution is so simple (yet very dark). The idea came as a series of pictures and words (you can notice there are some sentences with the same meaning - that's those words, paraphrased), but I won't spoil it - the story is pretty short anyway.

Realization Three

There was a time when he was but a wreck. Every day was dim and gray. Every day was a nightmare. Every day, his mind was oppressed by unbearable levels of anxiety. Every day, he felt the world brought him as close to the edge as possible, but every day he wasn't pushed off. Every day, he found the insanity wasn't at its end.

He had never know life was something else than a constant state of decay. He had never known that others called it misery. He had, however, always believed there was nothing else beyond it.

That was a matter of the past, however. At present, he was different. He was content. He was happy. He was liked. He was popular. He was successful. He was everything he had ever wanted to be.

It was such a simple thing. Such a simple, easy thing. An injection. An erasure. An application. Always but a single operation. All that was needed, all that was necessary to solve the hardest of problems was like operating a single switch.

He was fully aware of that. He was fully aware that all problems were stemming from perceiving the outside, not from the outside itself. He was fully aware that his perception was altered. He was fully aware that he could live like the others.

"Friend," people called him.

"Hello, friend," he always replied.

He was happy that he had so many friends. His mind was drawing nearer to the cloud number nine every moment that word was spoken. Friend. It filled his thoughts with warmness.

Indeed, many friends visited him. Some laughed, others needed counsel. Some helped, others needed help. Some shared a moment of joy, others a moment of sorrow. But all around, there was so much variety to the spectrum. Much unlike the previous, endless degrees of negativity.

Perception. It was the key to eternal damnation, blessing or something between. It granted the ability to sense in one way and denied the ability to sense in another. And like a switch, one changing to none, none changing to one.

It was so strange to try to recall the anxiety. To try to remember how it had felt. He just couldn't. He hadn't been capable of it ever since the change. He believed he was safe from the devastating dark side of the mind.

Little did he realize how very wrong he was. As easy as it was to repair things, it was even easier to slide back into the state of helplessness and decay.

His car crashed. He was hit in the head and lost consciousness. They were patching him up for two days and two nights, but when he finally woke up, he quickly realized he was not the same.

His world shrunk back into a tiny nothing. An oppression of his own mind. The reality. Everything was bleak. His friends were false. His possessions were fleeting. The war to avoid the decay began again. The war he would never win.

Eventually, he lost and was abandoned by all. The only one that he knew was himself. The only place he knew was the confines of his anxiety.

He was doomed, but not yet lost. He recalled he had been happy prior to the crash. He recalled how it had happened. He realized that it was useless to change things. There was no point in switching truths if they were merely interpretations of the same, for interpretation made no sense.

His problem was severe, his need dire, but there was nobody to help. Nothing to prevent the crumbling. Nothing apart from the switch experience. Nothing apart from a single gun. A single trigger, a single switch. The solution to all problems lied in operating a single switch.

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