Standing on the edge

A story of a person having an experience that i hope nobody has to go through, but i think some still do.

”Eh” I said as I sighed.

I sat there thinking for a moment about how stupid the saying was: There is always more fish in the sea.

“There might be more fish in the sea, but I never learned to fish. There might be more fish in the sea, but there is none. All fish lying dead on what used to be the bottom of the sea. The sea has been sucked dry, it might rise again, and repeat the cycle, eventually making benefits that isn’t beneficial to me but to others. Sacrifice, not on purpose but I was sacrificed. Never planned but happened. I ask only one thing, when you take this fish, think what this fish mattered to the poor man with no money, alone and poor. One fish makes the difference between life and death, between positive consciousness and negative consciousness. Whether you want to live, or you want to die. If you can’t find fish, find other food, if you can’t feed on fish feed on something else, motivate yourself. Find your passion, what is your goal and what do you want to achieve. You can’t starve at the thought of fish when there is a 100 days labor worth of corn at your side. Take that corn and make it into what you want with whatever tools you have. Some have the luxury of fish, I don’t. I eat the food that I make myself, not what jumps onto my boat as much as I would like the one fish to jump back onto it.”

I sat for a moment, looking straight into the eyes of my own reflection, reflecting about everything between life and death. The thoughts go through so fast, it feels as if everything is sorted, but then I realized.

“And when I have the food to feed me, when I have the food to survive, what then? I wish not to live with solely survival, I want to live life.” I could feel the channel of tears slowly reaching a leak. “What is living life truly?” I asked myself. “Perhaps it is to be happy, but what makes me happy? I survive on corn but the only thing that seems to make me truly happy is fish, but there is only one fish that is food to me. One fish which is already being eaten, I really liked that fish.”

I checked the rope to make sure it was ready for use as I looked at myself in the mirror again. I could see how red my eyes were, I had hoped I didn’t have to see myself in this state of mind, I whispered to myself.

“You’re a f*****g retard, if you were to take an option; would you take the option that you were here to regret or the one you’ll be too dead to regret?”

I pulled down the rope, made sure it was gone for good and sat down for another piece of bread to keep me surviving.

I dream of the fish every night, I pray for the fish every day, and I think of the fish every hour.