A troubled soul strapped in steel chair of their own design and of their own volition. Black helmet gripping my skull. They’re brain throbbing from the pressure, and thoughts were many and random.
The remote was taped to the person’s hand. They slam the button. Grave tremors stung throughout their heart and spirit. Their thumb was blackened from continually pulling the trigger. The troubled soul kept suffering until there was no more pain, no more isolation, no more mourning, no more memories of their beloved, no more.
The person wasn’t gonna kill themselves but their nerves, those nerves must be stiff. Never will the world hurt again, but they will be stronger than that. If the pain can erase weakness, unattainable perfection is no longer a nightmare but a new reality.
After that night of self-induced shocks, the person no longer felt pain, no longer felt right, no longer felt peace, the person could no longer feel. The new reality had no more pain but also unable to be healed and whole.
Life is a fight, so it’s painful, but if we keep pressing forward, the damage can be repaired. Thank you for reading, be blessed.
Peculiar Parables 