Fiction 2:


A slew of words like a quiver of arrows in my throat. Why. What to say? The thoughts lay out before me in an amalgamation of emotional slurry; jostled and mixed beyond individual recognition. Who’s to say this absence isn’t for the best. Given a chance to question my identity. I’ll take it. A young man, still a boy in many ways, sitting secluded atop an outcropping hill. To be so surrounded by seclusion is a feat in it of itself. Here I lie, alone, restless, yet unable to act. The sheer mystery of the unknown cripples my ability comprehend rationality. Logic. Think, son. Detach. For a second, step back, out of body. Deep breaths. Foggy, neurotic perceptions of your internal monologues are more often than not a misconception of reality. it is all in your head now. …Focus. You know, I still find an occasional strand of her hair. It bothers me, it does. Surrounded in seclusion. What an ironic thought. I watch. I listen. I engage. I react. But is this anything more than simple social manipulation?My shoes are filled with soles with no soul. This anecdotal antidote seems to help cope with the gaping openness. It isn’t emptiness. That implies removal. No, no, no, my dear. I was not once full. I was not once whole. I am not sure if I have ever been. Again, by social constructs. Who is it, then, that I see in the mirror? Does my physical being match the…the…fuck. What am I doing? What exactly is this? This hill. I admire from afar. I realize now that. I desire that which cannot be mine. Find solace in revelation. For ignorance is a poor man’s fate. Undoubtedly it is time for introspective perception and realization. Who in the actual fuck are you? Who do you plan on becoming? Sweet lager, thank you. I stare out again, still surrounded by seclusion. Has it always been this way? Or maybe it is a retreat? Questions yet to be answered, I suppose for another day. Sanity, health, love, life. Find comfort in these. Enjoy it. It’s become almost commonplace this year. Only the good die young, but let’s not go down that road right now. No, not right now. I laugh, but let’s be honest, it is a finger in the dam, holding back the flood of emotions. So many things to say to you. To the world. To everyone. But I can’t. Surrounded by seclusion. I just can’t.

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