Chapter 1: The Answer

Stark, desolate, dark: Fitting adjectives to describe such a day that I’d never thought I’d see. Yet hidden an exuberant child, and even deeper a fearful one. This is the last day I saw my mother.

An adequate description of the events which preceded would perhaps be an interesting point in the story, but surely such a thing is of no matter. Exact events of this day don’t particularly have any meaning, just the feelings and thoughts I’ve derived from them; so we trudge on.

It’s not as though I’d like to forget, no, quite the opposite. I’d left a safe haven, a seemingly perfect world, for that of the one which we live in. It’s so surreal to think back as to what exactly my thoughts were at the time, the last time I peered into those warm, brown eyes that looked as mine do, despite the difference in adjective used to describe them. No, perhaps our eyes weren’t the same due to this, only in pigment. My eyes were that of a child’s; hungry, yet not willing to do what is needed to achieve that which I starved for. It is on this fitting day I said goodbye to my old life, yet I brought it with me. My life seemingly unchanged other than the setting in which it took place, still dark, desolate, and above all, lonely, yet I didn’t hold it as such until some time later.

Still, perhaps as described earlier, these feelings may infact not be due to that which happened to me, but rather this is slowly what I morphed into being. Such a thing, a figment of the reality that actually was, all in the existence of the small round skull atop my shoulders. Of course this is the easiest explanation, for at the time my thinking followed that there couldn’t possibly exist such cruelty in reality, it is just my perspective on the matter, cruelty doesn’t exist beyond my mind. Let’s just say my perspective changed on that matter.

Cruelty exists as long as existence does.There can be no good, bad, nice, nor cruel without someone to perceive it as such, or a person or people to set the standards as such. The answer to my problem that followed might be a surprise to some of you who hold such things as objective fact.

My answer is to destroy existence.

Seemingly, nobody  in their right mind would undertake such a thing, or so I’m told. Why had I decided to do so? Some narcissistic, petty goal of becoming god like, or powerful? To have the power to strip away the very existence others had created, and the very meaning to which they put on their life? Such answers are far less selfish than the truth, but that will be explained in due time. So, never mind the meaning for which I prescribe to undertake the plan of destruction, for now I should continue to search for the means for my very difficult end. Such a fitting word play, if you hadn’t noticed.

Why take note of all of this? To what purpose does it serve to my end goal? Who exactly is going to read it if I reach this end? This journal of sorts wasn’t created to boast of my accomplishments, but rather used as a tool to fend off the biological loneliness that ensued from my answer. What followed was unbearable loneliness, but who to be better company for myself than myself? It has always been this way. I never had many friends, and never a single who I could have shared the deepest of my thoughts with. My friendships were just an illusion; nothing more than to serve as a deterrent to the loneliness. But perhaps this is all friendship is, nothing more than a creation to serve a purpose for each individual, and selfish in nature. In the end, friendship is no more than a faculty to make an individual happy, and thus useless if it isn’t successful at it’s purpose.

At this time, friendships and relationships, to me, had turned into pure imagination and delusion. Just as a parent only cares for their child due to instinct and chemicals, or social construct, the relationships I’ve run into are no different. It’s not as though I use them for the sake of using them. They are doing the same to me, I serve some purpose to them. So I cut all those ties, all those greedy, ugly ties, and ran forward and onward with my scissors held up front on that dark, lonely day.