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Old 07-21-2017, 09:41 AM   #1
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Diary of a Dead Man (prose)

I wrote this right after high school and have been revising it every once in a while when I come back to it. Posting it here because Q told me to.
Here you go:



As I lie alone in my bed, I wonder why nothing has ever been easy for me. Everyone has two faces, no friend has ever really been there when needed, and if 'God' truly exists then why hasn't he helped? I've never had a normal life like everyone else. What the hell did I do to deserve this? I can't help but contemplate if there's an 'other side.' Does it really exist? Is there more to life than this dim world? Overwhelmed by my existential crisis, I stick the cold steel barrel in my mouth, close my eyes, and pull the trigger...

I feel the neighbors in the apartment next to me jump at the sudden disturbance. As the light leaves my body, I can feel my body being dragged down away from me. I look down and there I am. There I was... As I look back up to view my surroundings, my apartment walls have disappeared. I glance back down and the ground has completely changed to a dull flat gray. But... I'm dead, right? I glance around at this new environment and see a couple of distant figures. They appear to be two humanoid entities. The closer figure has their back turned to me while the farther figure seemingly notices me and waves. I start to wave back, but the figure launches upwards out of sight before I can even get my hand up. Before I know it, I launch into the pitch-black void above us, tailing right behind the figure that waved at me. I look down for the ground but can only see the second figure tailing me in the same manner. I look back up and notice what appears to be a kaleidoscopic dome coming into view. But wait... I'm dead. Right?!

We break through the surface of the dome with an explosion of noise and color. Red, green, yellow, and blue triangular geometry everywhere. It's like being inside of a polygonized Dali painting. Incomprehensible. Where the fuck am I? I lost sight of the two figures in this chaotic visual mess, but I can hear what seems to be someone or something trying to communicate with me. I can't make sense of it, so I can't respond intelligently. I'm an alien here. I begin to walk, or float, or however I am moving, and I come upon what seems to be a congregation of these entities. But wait... I'm dead. Right?! Hoping for clarity, I join the gathering. More voices attempting to communicate with me invade my mind, but I still can't make anything out of it. It's all just gibberish. I begin to panic. Who are these entities? What are they saying? Where am I? Will I be stuck here? What does all of this mean?! I try to run away but these things keep following me. I just want out of here!

While attempting to escape from all of this confusion, I hear a weeping voice say out of nowhere, “It's not your time...” It sounds so familiar but yet so alien... “It's not your time!” Wait, why can I understand that? It's the only thing that makes sense anymore. I fall to the ground wailing for some peace of mind. I close my eyes to escape the visual confusion when I hear it again, "It's not your time, damn it!" When I attempt to open my eyes again, they are suddenly overcome with fatigue. My eye lids suddenly seem to weigh several tons. I struggle for control and manage to slowly open my eyes to the blurry sight of a dim and monotonous room. A welcomed drastic change from the carnival of color and noise. I must be in a hospital. Shocked, I immediately glance to my side to see my parents sobbing into their hands. I struggle to speak, "M-mom? D-dad?" They look up from their hands, their eyes widen, and their faces lighten up. The sight of some familiar faces warms me up as I burst into tears. I try to sit up in the bed but I can't seem to move. Their faces dim a bit. They tell me that I'm paralyzed from the neck down. Apparently the bullet had severed my spinal cord before exiting out of the back of my neck. I am now quadriplegic and this wheelchair will forever be my reminder...

Last edited by Malaclypse; 07-21-2017 at 09:46 AM..
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Old 07-21-2017, 09:43 AM   #2
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Re: Diary of a Dead Man (prose)

Also, when I wrote this I had just learned about DMT - which is why i spent so much time on the visual part.
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Old 08-29-2018, 11:02 AM   #3
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Re: Diary of a Dead Man (prose)

You didn't die, your ego did. It's a wonderful feeling if you are not scared.
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Old 08-29-2018, 11:58 AM   #4
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Re: Diary of a Dead Man (prose)

you're right. i was using the gun as a metaphor.

though re-reading this makes me cringe a bit lol.
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Old 08-29-2018, 12:48 PM   #5
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Re: Diary of a Dead Man (prose)

the ole temporary death of an ego

the tricky part is keeping it dead
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Old 08-29-2018, 12:55 PM   #6
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Re: Diary of a Dead Man (prose)

Quote:
Originally Posted by J A G View Post
the ole temporary death of an ego

the tricky part is keeping it dead
Yes indeed!
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