Voltaic
Darth Binks is real.
The realization hit him. He looked down in his hand, there was nothing there, completely empty. He laid back into his bed. looking up at the roof. He never liked the popcorn roofs. if you even bump into them, they sprinkle down plaster that gets everywhere. He never thought of that. He never even gave it a thought. He found it kind of funny. He sees his roof almost everyday, and never gave it a single thought. not a second of recognition, it was always just there, out of mind. He couldn't help but relate, always in the background, always there. no one pays him a single thought, even though they might see him everyday. Who was he to these people, was he just a co worker and nothing more? someone to interact with only when the job made it necessary? was he only a robot of the corporation in these peoples mind? was he only defined by the job he does, and the work he does? such thoughts, he wanted to flee out of his mind, he would never figure out the answer anyways, not enough time. distracted by the ceiling, he never noticed the situation he was in. A wave of fear flew over him. Such he expected, it is only a natural reaction. Sadness turned it's blue head to his mind, and he thought of the future. There wasn't much there, so he thought about the future he could have had, the future he thought might happen when he was a kid. Things where hopeful then. The future wasn't this big scary place, it was a place of options and choices that could lead to greatness and happiness. with his mind, the potential was limitless. Now his potential comes back to haunt him, as it was only past potential. He thought of the choices in the past that he made wrong. What could he have done in order to be an astronaut? or a scientist? The answers started to flow in, but only telling him what he did wrong, and not what he should have done to actually do it. These thoughts where not helpful. He cried for a bit, and all the negative emotional energy was released. He look to his hands, there where nothing in them. He felt happy now. as more and more time passed, his happiness evolved into euphoria. The future now seems hopeful. He saw at that moment, that he is finally going to be what he wanted, be finally happy, hopefully for the rest of his life. He reflected in all the negativity in his life, for the first time, not veering his mind away to spare him of pain. This time he looked back in hope. I never made the right decisions, I am alone because I never put myself out there, I am in this hole because I am irresponsible with my money. He knew these things deep down in his heart, never putting them word to word in his head. He never wanted to admit that he was the problem to his failures. It almost felt good to finally accept them. He repeated them out loud, each word boosting his feelings. It doesn't matter, not really. At least now he sees the truth. the truth he was so afraid to admit. He would carry the lessons to the day he dies. He felt hopeful. Now the pain might be over, maybe I wont die a sad husk of a human being, instead fulfilled, and happy. The future brought hope. He knew that the worst of it was over now, he sees the solution in view. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't just happy, he cried tears of happiness. He never thought such a good feeling existed. Is this how people feel when they do stuff that brings them joy? is this what they feel when they get married? when they have kid? When they move to a new house? He didn't know. He could only guess. True happiness was a mistery to him before this moment. Time passed. He enjoyed every second of it. His body felt off, he worried that the leftover spaghetti would come back up. He sat up and felt a bit dizzy. on the way out, he knocked over a few of the many empty pill bottles after loosing balance. He started to climb the stairs, but lost balance and fell down. The impacts left residual pain, his head was fuzzy, his guts hurt. He didn't get up, he didn't want to. He stayed on the cold hardwood floor and waited to sleep, in pain and happy.
-"His untimely death was a tragedy. He never should have died alone, he should have died at the age of eighty, surrounded by his family and loving people"
The words flowed out with pain. not emotional, but to get on with it and continue with his job. One of the few people left the grave. Others left in haste, it was frigidly cold out. One person stayed. A co-worker. She looked at the hole is the ground. A plain old wooden coffin, no one wanted to pay for a proper funeral, all of his family left him This is in no way a proper good bye. no wonder he left. He was just another face in the office. She didn't think of him, she was so preoccupied with her own problems, and her own friends, she couldn't even see the pain in his face, and the pain in his words as the spoke. She looks back now and sees it, she got it now. She saw that she was blind to something so obvious, she saw that she was blind that he was lonely and wanted someone, anyone. She didn't think highly of herself. She didn't think she would be a good friend to him, and in return and good friend for her. She regrets so much now. if only as if she said yes to a simple coffee, he could be here, such a small gesture could have saved his life. Who else around me is like this? She didn't know the answer. She waited, waited for some thought to come to her mind, a conclusion to her thoughts, something she can leave off on. Nothing came, as she stared at the open grave. She left, and got back to her car. On the way back she noticed every face on the way back. every face showed the same emotion, or lack of. Just trying to get on with their day and out of traffic. She parked her car and walked to her office. a man was sitting outside, wraped up in blankets and newspaper.His breath flowed out of his mouth in a thick fog and he sat in a corner to shield himself from the cold biting winter wind. his beard was long, cloths tattered, his face showed one undeniable emotion, hopelessness. She gave him a glance, and continued to work, it was too cold outside.
The Man and the Pills.
-Voltaic.
-"His untimely death was a tragedy. He never should have died alone, he should have died at the age of eighty, surrounded by his family and loving people"
The words flowed out with pain. not emotional, but to get on with it and continue with his job. One of the few people left the grave. Others left in haste, it was frigidly cold out. One person stayed. A co-worker. She looked at the hole is the ground. A plain old wooden coffin, no one wanted to pay for a proper funeral, all of his family left him This is in no way a proper good bye. no wonder he left. He was just another face in the office. She didn't think of him, she was so preoccupied with her own problems, and her own friends, she couldn't even see the pain in his face, and the pain in his words as the spoke. She looks back now and sees it, she got it now. She saw that she was blind to something so obvious, she saw that she was blind that he was lonely and wanted someone, anyone. She didn't think highly of herself. She didn't think she would be a good friend to him, and in return and good friend for her. She regrets so much now. if only as if she said yes to a simple coffee, he could be here, such a small gesture could have saved his life. Who else around me is like this? She didn't know the answer. She waited, waited for some thought to come to her mind, a conclusion to her thoughts, something she can leave off on. Nothing came, as she stared at the open grave. She left, and got back to her car. On the way back she noticed every face on the way back. every face showed the same emotion, or lack of. Just trying to get on with their day and out of traffic. She parked her car and walked to her office. a man was sitting outside, wraped up in blankets and newspaper.His breath flowed out of his mouth in a thick fog and he sat in a corner to shield himself from the cold biting winter wind. his beard was long, cloths tattered, his face showed one undeniable emotion, hopelessness. She gave him a glance, and continued to work, it was too cold outside.
The Man and the Pills.
-Voltaic.
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