Mirror Madness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

We are all, madmen..born into this world by chance and enslaved by time..

Submitted: January 31, 2018

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Submitted: January 31, 2018



My hands trace the droplets along the window, unaware of their aimless trajectories. The spirals of madmen, endlessly floating down to their deaths. I watch them, watch as they fall and spiral towards the endless infinity. 
What is life but an endless infinity? A box full of questions but no answers. Forever wondering why the madmen do what they do. 
I'd almost hesitate to say it's beautiful, the way they fall; but I'd be mistaken, to harken on such an art form forged in dark and blood. I desire to touch the falling madmen on my window, to know their plights and their struggles; and so I do.
I soon find myself covered in their blood, these falling madmen; and I understand. I understand why, for I am one. I am one of the madmen, trying to find his way back home, spiraling down this pane of glass, no control of my trajectory. Where will I go when my fall ends? That's the question that haunts me as I watch all the others fall, and it's terrifying. Terrifying to think I'll end just like the rest, and so I am sad. I stare out this window and try to make sense of it all. Holding on to my own infinity, wishing to make it last. 
Such is the plight of us all, we all try to make something last that we know will end. And so we create, we explore, and we dare to dream. This is why we are madmen, charging on despite the inevitable end of the fall. It's poetic, encapsulating, chill inducing, the thought of creating to fill that void. We create to prolong the fall, to find a place where we belong among the other madmen, to feel their validation momentarily lift us further away from death. 
So I stare out this window, tracing the aimless trajectories of potential, wondering who will be next. Will it be me??

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