Nyctophilia (Slayer) Apathetic Loneliness

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story about the existence of the human mind after death; adopting a belief in (man-made) afterlife conception. Representing human fears and joy in a virtual spiritual world.
Apathetic Loneliness, a new short story.

Submitted: July 04, 2019

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Submitted: July 04, 2019

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Apathetic Loneliness

Story VI

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ancient roots of different identities and many faces have initiated the recent renaissance of individualism; I sensed a massing into a trail of modern private thoughts long before, for a traveler I was, back to the golden age of free thinking and illuminated minds, I’m the beholder of suppression, execution I recall, of self esteem as a crime, against stern social values I secretly marched, to which I quenched not a few but many of revolutionary theories; theories of life, faith, death and human supreme that would likely have erased the entire history of human values if were spoken aloud.

 

centuries of silence have passed, pleasing a wretched common sense, I am reaching a state of apathy, seeking peace over adventure, polishing illusions with hopes of a better existence after death, perhaps another dimension, new rules, and ultimate freedom, I was and still and will remain a free thinker, I remember the day I died, it wasn’t the first life I left behind, tired of wandering the shades of change, for finally, fate settled me in a state of mind, hasty and sharp I used to be, running across the dimension of existence, once a knight, once a philosopher and once a queen.

 

This time, I hardly felt the process before I fell asleep, deep and far…

 

 

Much lighter I feel now, my sight is clear, I am the author of my ending, I chose to rest in peace, in an endless land I sleep, my home is of glass, my clothes of silk, bare feet for no harm I receive, a place I know nothing about, not even mentioned in a legendary book, or a supernatural epic!

 

And when the bright sun leaves, I fear, the dark space keeps me indoors, I lock my cell and read, stories I once wrote about heaven and joy, of love lies and falsification, I fell from grace, I thought I once possessed back when I was ‘alive’, and I know now, my loneliness is incurable, endless and unleashed like my world, I sighed, this is when I set the flashbacks free, of new memories, trail to seize, once I heard his voice, from the back of my head he calls, I lit a candle and summoned the phantom to whom I dedicate my darkness and joy, it is very presentable, possible in a world I own and rule, standing at the door of my dreams, mute I stay like every time we meet, he smiled, approached my desk; he reads:

 

“I’m down to whatever the demon in you command,

Cardinal sins I commit, renew and redo,

I am the heathen queen of your crimes,

Touch me, possess me, burn my remorse with fire I already consumed,

Morals I need no more, for the demon in you I kneel, a believer in your majestic phantom I plea…”

 

I raised my timid looks, fear of rejection broke my soul, for his face is all I need in an empty savage world, yet it was only me, all alone, me and hallucinations of a man I never had and will never have, apathetic death I faced and embraced, but his absence has filled me with pain I’ve never experienced before, of weakness power I obtain, of imagination I create a new world where I and his phantom could relate, and I know how stray we are, illusions I keep without his grace to survive, I summoned him from all my heart, a flame to light my dullness and warm my cold apathetic loneliness.

 

The End


© Copyright 2019 Fufu Davis. All rights reserved.

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