Thursday, December 07, 2006

• Already Dead

  The swarming sting of reality was too much for one to bear. What’s wrong with him, someone asks, though they really don’t care. He’s mad, another states in a hideous monotone. All he feels is swirling pain, a black existence crushing his soul. Where have they taken her, where was she? Tell me! Tell me, he shrieks. He runs through them all, bumping and crashing through forcibly. They all think he’s crazy, and he knows it. But there is nothing left. He is already dead. He knows it too. That’s the worst of it all. Knowing that part of your mind is gone, knowing that you have been driven to insanity. It was like when he was sleepwalking when he was younger, when he would try to convince his older brother that something was wrong, but Jed would just laugh at him. Go back to sleep, he would say. But he knew that he was awake, and everyone else was asleep, he was the one who knew that they were crazy. But now there is no bed, there is no waking up…he’s gone, he’s crazy. He knows it now, he didn’t then. Knowing it is the worst. Knowledge is pain. Reality is pain. Pain is reality. There is nothing but pain. Pain defines existence. He is already dead.

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