System Failure

I can feel it trying to get out and run free, that soul they talk about it’s struggling.

I can feel its every kick and cry to escape, it’s leaving me in pain. My body, its vessel or whatever, is hurting… Agony is the word.

 

A doctor would explain that the bullet has penetrated my chest and found its way to my lung. But I’m pretty sure that what am feeling right now is the soul breaking out not the bullet swimming in.

Potato… Potato right?

 

They don’t tell you that dying consumes that much energy out of you. It's funny because what they do tell you turns out to be a bunch of crap, endless bullshit if I may.

Like all my life I’ve heard- and you probably did too- that your life flashes before your eyes when you’re on your deathbed. Now for the past what seems like a lifetime, I can't remember my life.

I even closed my eyes, tried to push the images to the surface… Calling on all the memories! But the only thing I keep seeing is the face of the man who took my life. Why do I need to see him before and during dying?

I don’t know.

 

Every breath seems to be my last except it isn’t. You never at any point imagine yourself wishing, praying for it to be. I gotta say I’m really tired of dying… Exhausted. And frankly a little bored.

 

I can see another face now, a doctor is in the crowd and he's finally come to my rescue. I can't tell for sure but he says something along the lines of “lungs...punctured”. I’m beyond saving but I already know that.

 

There’s a foreign body in my body. You see the complication in that sentence; I don’t need a college degree to know it doesn’t work that way.

System Failure! The result is an imbalance, drama…

Bodily fluids exiting their premises, organs handing in their resignations, BLOOD… drama… Intense drama…

Screeches and howls of walkers, witnesses, and loved ones.

Questions that have no right answers or answers that will forever remain unknown to this world. Ultimate chaos inside and outside, simple pure madness until you give in because silence is the only left form of relief.

 

You leave with the unknown and for the unknown with this simple stupid fact: man is here to do his part, whatever that is- the lucky and the few are those who know. Man is here to exist and yes even if that means to wipe somebody else off the map and take his place.

In our minds the world is apparently too small to take the two of us, one of us is wrong, one of us has to leave, needs to die. He’s doing his job and I’m doing mine, I am fighting for a place; a belief even if it’s the wrong one or just a product of my imagination.

The world is in my head and right now the world is ending.

Sigh… Sigh… Silence!