KingLuscious.com

Shoot me now. Seriously. Put me out of everyone’s misery.

I’ve made it at least one more. Blastfax kudos all around.

They said it would help.

When love is split apart?

It doesn’t happen often. In fact, I can say that this is the first time it has ever happened to me.

I mean, I have come to realizations before. Epiphanies accompanied by great insight or shame. This one does not differ in that way.

However, this one has arrived, bringing shame in case you’re interested, with something altogether new. I felt a physical component to this one. A reaction.

The mental component was the equivalent of staring at a malange of colored dots one second, and the next they have resolved themselves into a three dimensional sailboat. Without any seeming change, my entire perspective shifted in a uniform direction. Things fell into place. Anger became shame. A once bright and somewhat defined, if not a bit blurry, future flushed away in a heartbeat.

The physical component was the equivalent of nothing. Moreover, it felt like the absence of nothing. Nothing would have been a comfort. My stomach fell. There was no sinking feeling. It was more of a freefall. It hit the floor. My eyes widened. My nostrils flared. My mouth opened slightly and I doubled over. Hunching my shoulders.

I have lived slightly out of sync with the world for a little while now. I felt very singular. Very isolated.

I slid back into the real world with the mental and physical symptoms described above. The world slid back against me. I had changed it while I was away. Ruined it. Tore it down. Laid waste. It is a darker place because of me.

I sift through it. Nervous.

I wish to rebuild. To anchor so firmly here that I never again slide back to the world of tunnel vision and thousand yard stares.  The world of stinging and accusing. The world where I stand alone on the once proud ruins.

I take steps. I move forward. Fast enough? Too fast? Do I step too loudly or too lively? I cannot know these things until it is too late.

There is a light. A beautiful and radiant light. A guide. It shines on me, though less brightly than before. It is my anchor. To this, the real world.

Were I to stay shined on, the shadow world will hold no sway with me.

-nick.

He sat alone. Hunched over. His elbows resting on his knees. A revolver in each hand.

The house looked alien. All the lights were out. The streetlight shone through the blinds casting razor blades of light over the dining room table, the man and the guns.

What would he do? The person who lives here would be home any minute now. Would the intruder be recognized. Probably. They’ve met several times.

The keys were in the door. Jingle. The door opened. The man walked in through his front door. Immediately something felt wrong. Something just on the edge of perception. Someone breathing.

He walked into the dining room. There was a man sitting at his table. He had a gun. Two guns.

The intruder raised an arm. He aimed his gun at the homeowner’s head. The other arm raised and rested the other gun against his own head.

“I know what you’ve done.”

He fired both guns with expert timing.

In the distance, he could see the caravan approaching.

Did it bring salvation or ruin?

You never know just how you look through other people’s eyes.

And that absolutely terrifies me.

Today is a black anniversary.

And it makes me sad.