Death, slowly, meticulously

Just one shot to numb the pain.
The music on the jukebox blares, and all he wants to do is be left alone.
Another shot to kill the brain cells, not the intelligent ones, just the ones that feel.
Tonight he just wanted to be numb. No sadness, no longing, no wishing to be more, tonight he would be drunk and whole.
Just another puff and his lungs were full, another toke and his mind was clear. Life made sense like this. He could function, just take away the pain. A robot, monotonous in his actions, just going through the motions, day to day. No thought, no feelings.
The person beside him asked a question. He didn't realize there was someone there. Couldn't they just leave him alone, leave him be, all he wanted was peace. The peace that comes when there is nothing left to lose.
No, he didn't have a lighter. Perhaps it would be better if they found another place to sit. He just wanted to be alone.
Another shot to check on the first two, they seemed to be dallying in his throat with no hurry to reach his stomach.
He just wanted peace and quiet. The music blasted louder on the sound system. No one cared about him, he was just another distraction in their desire to have a good time. Another bump on their insignificant lives. His plight didn't matter, the sorrow in his heart didn't exist. He wasn't really there.
Without realizing it, he had accomplished his goal. He didn't exist. He was a ghost.
And the ease and silence of a ghost, he simply disappeared.

Clarity

And in a moment of clarity, I realized that time is merely repeated. Everything has happened before and we are just sitting through the memories. Is this real, did that happen? I woke and realized that this has happened before. I have been here before, a moment of clarity when I realized nothing mattered. That life continues with no Nevermind to us or our day to day struggle.
And then I questioned, if nothing matters, then what's the point? Why go on? Why do anything? Fate suggests that we are unable to control our destinies, but if this the case, does it matter if I do nothing? Wouldn't that be written into the fabric of time?
There has to be a point, otherwise it existence upon this is simply without meaning and the daily struggle with "was I good enough today" had absolutely no meaning.
But this is simply contradictory to our evolutionary progress as humans.
So the questions still remain.

And then I realize that this question is the epitome of man's quest. Why we search, why we wonder, the driving force behind all religions, all questions.

Ash

The music plays, notes enter my ears.
I hear nothing.
The sun shines, the blue skies crystal clear.
I see nothing.
The birds chirp, the squirrels play.
I am oblivious.
The food is plated, the smells heavenly.
I smell nothing.
The food enters my mouth, I taste ash.
I struggle to find the point, the reason.
I struggle to find anything, including my way.
All I taste is ash.

Monster

The face in the mirror, staring back at me, can't be me.
There's no way the monster inside looks so human.
The monster that I try to hide to hide, but grows stronger every day. I wonder if it'll escape every time my mouth opens.
The face looking back at me no longer resembles me. I've changed, grown quieter, stronger. I depend on no-one, I need nothing.
Can they see what's under lock and key? The beast I keep hidden. Something in me is flawed, I'm diseased, sick, rotting from the core. There is no cure, it's what I am. A monster.
If I let it loose, it would destroy all. Anything and everything, it knows no end, it feels no love.
I look at the man in the mirror. That's no longer me, but the shell I've become. The fake mask of pleasantry, the subtle veil of contentment.
No one knows what's inside, no one ever will. I force the monster deep down inside, it waits, it'll get its chance for destruction.
I force a smile, no one ever knows the demon within.
I will destroy everything you hold dear, best to flee and forget I ever existed.

Decisions

The rain was pouring down. Not the kind of rain one really wanted to go out in. It probably resembled a monsoon, but in these parts it was called a "heavy thunderstorm". No one wanted to be out in this sort of weather, yet there he was - standing in the deluge with no rain gear. He had been soaked to the bone long ago, yet he stood in it still.
The reason for this impromptu bath lay behind the door he stood in front of. The door he had been standing in front of for far too long. His hand was stretched out, but frozen between knocking and simply opening the door. He was torn, and couldn't make up his mind. So many possibilities lay before him, no matter which choice he made, the repercussions were many; none of which he felt he would be able to digest.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the motel sign at the entrance to the parking lot. Not a place he would have readily sought out, but at this point, he didn't feel as if he really had a choice. Looking at the window, he could just see into the room, the curtains being slightly parted. The reason he hesitated on knocking, entering the building, anything lay on the bed, curled into a ball. She was crying again. His decisions had hurt her. Again. He only wanted happiness, he only wanted to be loved. She gave him all that, but at what cost?
That is what froze him, the consequences. Repercussions.
She moved, sitting up. He could see the tears on her face. He could see her wrestling with the decision he knew she would have to make once she saw him. It had been building for years, reaching a sort of climax. Decisions. Life was so full of decisions. What would she do, what would she say? What was he going to do?
As if to prod him into motion, the rain came down even harder. He really hadn't thought that was possible. Yet, the sting of the rain belayed his per-conceived belief. He had a choice to make, yet couldn't make himself move. He ran through all the scenarios in his mind, there simply was no happy ending. No matter what he did, someone was going to be hurt. He was tired of hurting people. So tired. She stood and moved to the bathroom, at least that's what he assumed as he could no longer see her.
He looked up to see his hand floating in mid air. Halfway posed to knocking, halfway posed to fall back down to his side. He didn't remember raising his arm, his body wasn't fully under his control anymore it seemed. What to do? what to do? Knock and face the pain? So tired.

Lightning flashed again. She had cried more than she had ever thought was possible. She felt dry inside from all the tears. She stood and walked to the bathroom to wash her face. Why hadn't he come? Didn't he still love her? All these years, through all the struggle, he had always been by her side. Yet, where was he? She had taken such a big risk coming here. She was ready to throw the past away and leave with him. Her packed bags sat just inside the door were a testament to her resolve. But he was late. Really late. Beyond even what she anticipated with the storm. Where was he?
She turned to look at the door, lightning flashed again, briefly illuminating the parking lot outside. She saw the shape of a man outside the window. He was here! She smiled quickly, rushing to the door relieved, he had come after all. Breathlessly she threw open to door to nothing but rain. There was no one there, he hadn't come. Devastated, she slumped to the floor, being soaked by the downpour coming through the now open door. He wasn't there. She was alone. He wasn't coming.
Impossibly, the tears started flowing again. He had walked away. The thing she never thought he would do, the thing she never wanted. Alone. He was gone. Her only choice was back to the life she was trying to leave. Back to a normality she never wanted. She felt empty inside, dead.