257th Post

Another night.

Enclosed in my bubble of silence.
Pondering.

What would life be like.
If it were to be fair all the time.

Would it better?
Or would it get boring after a period of time?

Life's constant peppering of ironies.
Are they trying to tell us something?

Or are they sarcastic remarks from life.

Mocking us.
Insulting us.

Some of us can take a lifetime to search.
Yet the answers remain as elusive as the inky darkness.

While some of us.
Just couldn't be bothered.

And thus.
We resign ourselves to whatever fate has in store.

Ah.
How life loves to fling questions at us.

While some of us are driven mad in the quest to find the answers.
Others are driven to silence.

A form of silence.
In which nothing can pierce through it.

Sigh.

Some may ponder.

Is it better to be dead.
Or to continue living out a torture.

Another cut forms on the arm.
The blood flows for another night.
In atonement.

The pain wells up.
Deeper cuts are formed.
More blood flows out.

Of a soul.
That no longer exists.

Except to wait in silence.
Until it's time to depart from the realm of the living.