Ideation-Chapter 1: Suicide

Even the sky has opened up as if to cry. It is definitely an omen. The light of the moon reflects off the knife of a man about to lose his mind. The bright, otherworldly glimmer acts as an invitation to make this progress from a show for none to a show for many. It is unfortunate that the light never reaches anybody out there. Hell, it couldn’t even reach this sad fellow and offer him a chance to change his mind.

Tears stream down this walking corpse’s face, a river of information to the nonexistent onlookers that chaos is soon due. Extremely dark thoughts race through his head. Who will miss him? Nobody. What does he have to lose? Nothing.

The man puts the knife down for a bit to reflect on his life. He sits in an empty room, the carpet stained with crimson from his previous attempts to end his life. The only thing that keeps him going, keeps him interacting with society, is the ability to cover this dark habit of his. A crooked smile attempts to find its way to his face when he notices a full 1.75 liter bottle of vodka sitting in the corner of his room.

It too is lonely. It will miss him. He has it to lose. It is a little unfortunate that it happens to be the rubber bottle cheap ass horseshit version of vodka, but it redeems itself by at least being 100 proof.

As the man picks up the knife once more, this time to merely put it away, he notices the glimmer of light from the moon reflecting off the bottle of vodka. By some sort of strange twist the light did reach him. It is a rather extreme twist, however, the sort which has the crescent warped into a psychotic smile. Has the light saved him, or is it just prolonging the agony through torture? Clouds gather in the heavens, obscuring the light at just the proper angle to make the moon display a crimson-toothed smile off the indentations of humanity’s mild prolonged poison. This is clearly a sign of ill will, a definite sign of the coming of continuing torment for this poor soul.