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Eyes on Fire [Prologue]
In this world, things happen that cannot be explained. For example, people can’t explain what happens after you die. People cannot explain why they kill each other, other than brushing it off as simple mental illnesses. People cannot explain a lot of things, yet we all try to find our own answers as life goes on. We keep looking for answers until we finally die ourselves. I was taught when I was younger by my mother that death was like a journey, one that you don’t return from, one that keeps going on for a long time. No happiness, no sadness, no pain, no touch, no sensations at all. Just a path and a pair of feet that have to keep walking for an eternity because there is absolutely no time to stop for a rest to gaze down at the non-existent flowers in the false grass on either side of this path. To me, that sounds sadder than the actual dying part, but at that time I was a child and I would not understand the typical explanation. If that’s the type of thing used to explain death I think that I might not want an explanation after all, but I wonder why I can see these people walking down their paths. Why was that not explained to me, or is that just one question that no one can ever answer? Everyone lives in the fear of not knowing that I’m not sure anyone will have the chance to bathe in knowledge before they die, isn’t that more frightening than not knowing itself? In a world like this though, questions like that are never answered so they’re lost on the wind.
Back to the point in that case, I suppose. This world is full of many things, and those things are full of questions. Questions no one will ever answer; questions that would help that person end their suffering. What would you say if I said I could see and hear the dead? Would you call me crazy? Say I’m schizophrenic because of the death of my mother and father when I was younger? Maybe you’re right, but are those your answers just because you’re scared of knowing more than what you’ve been told as you grew up? Is knowledge too scary of an aspect for you that you’d rather sleep in bliss until you can’t ever have the opportunity to wake up?
Or are you just afraid of the monsters that lurk in the darkness?
Back to the point in that case, I suppose. This world is full of many things, and those things are full of questions. Questions no one will ever answer; questions that would help that person end their suffering. What would you say if I said I could see and hear the dead? Would you call me crazy? Say I’m schizophrenic because of the death of my mother and father when I was younger? Maybe you’re right, but are those your answers just because you’re scared of knowing more than what you’ve been told as you grew up? Is knowledge too scary of an aspect for you that you’d rather sleep in bliss until you can’t ever have the opportunity to wake up?
Or are you just afraid of the monsters that lurk in the darkness?
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