Untitled Notion Of Death

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The notion of insanity

I burst into laughter at the sight of fallen angels, or maybe just devils who reach too high for their own good. It was a splendid sight, until I saw it was real. A want for killing rushed through my arteries, boiling the oxygen out of my blood. I was blushing with an urge to murder anyone I saw, heard or smelt. I was like a predator chasing down an already chewed up prey. The feeling was unbearably good, and I wanted to feel it again, and again until my head burst into “enlightenment”. I could feel the screams of future victims echo through the hairs on my skin, sending signals to the adolescent smile on the face many would die seeing.

The world was like a mental asylum, all of it. It was all plain, no sound, life, or even death. It was like a space within the limited world we could not even begin to perceive or comprehend, but could see with the naked eye. An immense sea of wonders came to an end and eroded the land we call humanity. There was no hope, absolutely none. The pillars carrying the sanity of man began crumbling like a line of dominoes, and no-one could even notice the slope left behind, sliding us down to an eternal doom. 

The endless collisions of philosophies made up from bullshit minds arouses my urge to watch the entire human race eat each other’s flesh like the race of animals they already are. The gnawing of bones as blood runs down their decrepit teeth pooling underneath, blood was spilled tonight, they look at each other with pitiful revenge not like the brothers they once were.  A burst of hell explodes inside my blood, already full of anger and pain. It feels painful, but wonderful at the same time. The suffering amuses me, ending my cravings and helping me reach enlightenment.

A perspective difference creates war, physically and mentally. What is the point of a perspective? A perspective gives humanity a reason to keep on going, working themselves to death. It would certainly be wonderful if we all just disappeared, the end of everything we worked towards with the support of these “positive” emotions created by us to keep on suffering. The negative ones are the truly helpful ones, slightly making humanity fall, like it should. Turning the balance of what we preserve as good. What is good? If all is burning, if all is hell?

As we plunge deeper into our hellscape the lines of morality have been blurred, our line of reason cut off, the veil of our sinister nature rears it ugly head, our fabric or existence revealed. The once cherished ideals of love, compassion, and unity were replaced by a perverse fascination with pain and suffering. The streets ran red with the blood of the innocent, and the air hung heavy with the stench of decay. 

A warm Kindle of fire ignited, in the fog of nothing light emerges, huddled together no more than 4 whispered in the abandoned grave of the world, they shared stories or a lost past of compassion and love without Lust, these stories like seeds were planted into the 4 the last uncorrupted humans and it took root in their hearts.