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The seasons of death

have you ever been certain of something, of life for example, and its dayliness routine, of course there are problems here and there but it seems like there could be nothing big enough to make it stop.

if ever something seemed like it would never happen, or, it could not happen... if ever there was something that even with the truth spat right at your face, you could not believe it. that something would be life... but it stopped... who knows why?... and i cannot believe it.

How long has it been? i believe 10 years now, 10 years of walking the earth; it was 6 years ago that i met someone else, but was highly disturbed, commited suicide few days later, seemed that meeting up with me gave her some kind of comfort, then went ahead and killed herself but then again... highly disturbed.

that was feasant prove that i was not the only person on earth and have been walking since in search of something, someone, an explanation, an answer... but all i've had are more questions.

so what now? i came to this point beacause of a decision; i am completely alone, the millions of people that inhabited this Earth have either dissapeared or comitted suicide, and all that can be seen are empty cities filled with indoor corpses, old newspapers with stories of overnight mass disapearances, all unxplained... and no clues as to the millions of people whereabouts or even any idea as to where they could be, nobody seemed to have an explanation as to what was happening.

As the newspapers stories unfolded the mass disapereances increased day by day, until the last printed newspaper, tuesday 13th, the news were shocking,
everyone in europe had disappeared and satelite photos showed that part of asia had disappeard as well, part of the continent, the land had disappeared and there were no explanations.

now that i recall it, i was also there; the story ran for 7 days, from the first news on the disappearances until the day newspapers stopped being printed.

All this stairs make me remember of old days and make me wander of why i am still alive; i guess is because i hated life as it was; maybe that was why i had kept going on and on all these years when other gave up already.

My name is Jack Dreams, my mother was a mental institution patient, where she met my father,a doctor; long story short, they had me, and soon after, my father joined my mother as a patient in the same mental institution, so i grew up at foster homes my first years, my youth was spent between correctional facilities and foster homes; when i came to adulthood i got a job which i hated and moved on my own, even since then i was alone and just living on and on, cannot say there was ever something i liked, but, maybe i just dont remember anymore, still there were others around, there were books, there was music, there were movies,
there was electricity...

i thought the disappearance of everyone i knew, of everything i knew, did not affect me that much, but now that i come to see it, it was just irrational faith and hope:
Faith that all those people would just reappear and say "hey, we are here".
Hope that there would be a solution, an answer somewhere out there, it was just irrational faith and hope... but it was just as irrational as everyone just disappearing.


seems the stairs are coming to an end, but my mind isnt what it used to be, i cannot remember as to the why i came here? The view is just beautiful, the sun is setting, the weather is perfect, the landscape is beautiful and it seems like a long way down... everything is just perfect... it is perfect...

Oh right! i came here to decide if i was going to kill myself or not.
huh, but to kill oneself?... seems kind of dumb and lame, i guess the answer is... no, i am not going to kill myself, i am just going to see if i can fly...


from all that was,
to all, that is,
the end

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by 08119

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