• Tormented mind (school project)
    I live in this reality, the same as yours’, though you see it differently, you probably run on desire, hope, hope to get money simply for acquiring physical objects, I do not run on such weak ideas, I function on anger, revenge, wrath---a deadly sin. These ideas, these simple concepts keep me running on a daily basis.

    Wrath, a sin, I have the mind of a sinner. Will I end up in hell, the conception of a realm of eternal suffering, I won’t. No one dies no one goes anywhere after death, there is no death. Only continuity of hopeless regret passing through any conception of the human mind…

    The man walked outside, the man had a name. He remembered so little of his past and yet the minimal piece of evidence of his past was clear, so clear, in his mind. That single fragment of a memory was of no important event, it was of a face. A face of such deformity he could barely come to term with the fact it was real, was, for the face is no longer, the face has been erased from any hypothetical reality except for his. I was, still am and will always be the man. Tormented by a face I could never forget, a single face, which can evoque such strong feeling it deserves not to be but forever will. The indescribable horrors I witnessed that night were a true tread through the bare idea of what hell may be to any Christian man.

    The man in front of me had a notepad, he asked me to tell him things from my life; I didn’t know anything about my life. He asked me about memories of my past self; I had none. Months ago this very man told me I was here to get better, to see a better world, better than the one any narcotics could offer. He said I would feel relieved coming out of here, everyday it got worse. It was pure torture having to be here, no contact with any human being outside of him and a few others I hadn’t come to even recognize after the years I had spent in this godforsaken space of abstract astral torture of the mind, not once have refused to cooperate, not once had I refused to pass a test or answer questions. They were still watching me, after years of pain they told me I was free. Free.
    The concept of freedom still eludes my mind as I walk down the bleak white corridors of the institute, what is freedom? They let me out of here just to fall victim to the trap of society? I kept on walking, guided by the same men and women who tore my soul into pieces one morsel at a time. Soul which is forever a consideration of mind trying to find a way of forgiveness and hope and yet I yield to this idiocy. A small room with nothing but a chair and a table, table which was presenting a box about 6”x9”. Smiling, one of those brainless hounds told me I was free to open it. I did. The box contained a pair of underwear, trousers, a blue shirt and a coat. I was brought behind a curtain, understanding I needed to change into the new garments I did so. Their voices, nagging, telling me how wonderful was “the outside”, going on about their misconception of freedom. As we walked through the disgustingly clean walls of the building I was able to see others, who were just like me, I pity them greatly. As we kept on adventuring through the halls, I couldn’t but notice the luminosity got increasingly brighter to the point of discomfort. I am standing in front of two large doors made of some allege unknown to me. The doors opened, a back alley, I walked, they closed the doors behind me. The cold brisk of fall harshly embrace my skin. I am to figure out my way in this space before unknown to me. I am alone.

    I am, always was, and forever will be the man.