Pure

[tweezers 1,034]

Pure

 

My happiness.

 

You go through life without a care in the world. You treat everything like a game, each day slipping past you like a glistening gold pearl on a thread. If you distilled your essence, your spirit, you’d become more potent a drink than any mere mortal could hope to brew. You can illuminate an entire day with your presence, without even needing to say a word. For you, sadness is not something to even consider. It is beneath you. Fundamentally, it isn’t even a part of you.

 

My spirit.

 

How do you manage it? Surely there must be something behind that facade, that glossy veneer of sheer, pure, unadulterated joy. Are you just a good actor, perhaps the best the world has ever seen? Impossible. You never have a bad moment, one in which you’re anything less than what you seem to be. None can doubt you, none may doubt you. You’re beyond that, beyond such crass questions.

 

My soul.

 

Sometimes I begin to wonder whether you even exist. You have an ethereal quality to you, as if the rules and dullness and boredom of life itself don’t apply to you. Are you just a vision? The goal of all things, something to show us all what we could be? Something to keep us all hoping, hoping for deliverance, hoping for just a little of you. Are you just the greatest advertisement that I’ve ever seen, a marketers dream, the product that you not only want but need, physically, mentally, absolutely need?

 

My everything.

 

You left before you answered any of my questions. Left us all, gone in a flash of blades and blood and quiet nights huddled in a heap on the floor. You weren’t the ultimate advertisement, then. You were the ultimate trap. Enticing, enchanting, enveloping. But you destroyed yourself in the process. Was that your goal from the start? To make us all believe that you were the ultimate, and then show us that the brightest stars are the ones that burn out first? You were glorious in life. You were the greatest. And now that you’re gone, the world does not know what to work towards.  

 

Myself.

 

I will do it. I will become what I wanted to be, what I desired more than anything else. I will be the golden child of all those who dream, the one for whom life is just a game to play safe in the knowledge that no harm can come to me. Perhaps that’s why you left so soon. The prospect of being harmed is what makes us want to survive, after all.

 

I will become you, and I will end the way that you ended.

 

But it’s better than being out here, wondering what it’s like to be you.

[Hex 11,520]

Approved! C:

 

Nice one!

[fury987 604]

Nice bro

[mydoom.exe 5,154]

Lovely piece - short and sweet. :)

[Legacy 754]

Beautiful

[F.I.N.I.S.H.E.R 2,397]

Good read :)

[r_Breathe2 51]

Jeez, this is deep... 

[tweezers 1,034]

Jeez, this is deep... 

I hope you liked it all the same :P 

[Blackdrakon30 2,943]

Noob writing quality

 

Nice one. Only just saw this now, but it's a cool way of presenting your thoughts.  ;)