Moonlit Night

–From the Journal of Thomas Deacon–

What are we here for? There has to be more to it than this? Right? We are born into this world naked and screaming. We grow up learning about things that really don’t matter. We aren’t taught how to live. We aren’t taught how to think. We are taught to follow. Blindly. Whether it be god or the state. A basketball team. Or even an author. We gladly follow into the abyss consuming whatever is placed in front of us. Whatever the big thing at the time. We consume. Oil, animals, land, and even people. We consume at a rate like no other being on the planet. We tell those that stop consuming that they’re freeloaders, a burden on society. And we refuse to help those that can’t help themselves. We tell them that they’re not worth out time, and that watching some family on the idiot box is more important. Or that I need to watch this video of cats meowing that’s seven hours long on the internet before I can help. Or my favorite, like this post to help those suffering in a place I’ve never been to. No action is ever actually taken. As if to do anything would take away from your time with the cat videos and video games. Oh no, we can’t have that.  Too much trouble to do anything aside from consuming. Wake up, eat breakfast while watching a video on a crisis in some far off place, make sure the kids are ready for school, head off to a job that only cares about making money for those that already have it, eat a product that’ll kill you after you’ve consumed them nearly your entire life (the doctor will say you died of natural causes), back to work, spend two hours in traffic on a thirty-minute stretch of road listening to a news broadcast on a different crisis in a different far off place, eat, spend a total of five minutes actually talking with your kids before sending them to bed, spend an hour watching a news program about how drugs are destroying the country you live in, sleep, repeat. The end never comes until we die, but by then it doesn’t matter. You welcome death or you fight it. You try to leave a legacy for a people that’ll forget you once the next new thing comes along. Forgotten and alone you leave the world naked. Placed in a box six feet underground to become worm food.

Thomas through his notebook into the fire and watched it burn. “What’s the point? Nothing will change from one person’s anger and frustration with their inability to change anything.” He walked away from the flame emerging out into the moonlit night. He made his way up into the park by the bridge he had been under. He looked up at the stars trying to find some peace with the fact that he was an insignificant spec of dust within the grand scheme of the universe.

“Hey! Give me your wallet!” A voice said as Thomas felt something poke him in the back.

“What?” Thomas said as he froze.

“I said give me wallet, bitch!” The voice said again, “And don’t turn around.”

“Ok, ok. Just chill out. I’m reaching for my wallet now.” Thomas said as he reached into his coat he took hold of his wallet, and while pulling it out of his pocket he dropped it, “Sorry, I’m a bit nervous. This is the first time I’ve been mugged.”

“Son of a- Take three steps forward and keep those eyes pointed in front of you.” The voice said. Thomas followed the instructions listening for a chance to turn around and see who was mugging him. He heard a little flop followed by footsteps receding into the park. He turned around to see if he could spot who it was, but the darkness from trees in the park made it impossible. Thomas picked up his wallet and sat down on a nearby bench taking some deep breadths. He checked to see what was taken from his wallet.

“All my cash of course, but none of my bank cards.” Thomas sighed and stood up making his way out of the park to the street. He made his way down the street crossing over in front of a small bakery. As Thomas rounded the corner onto the next street he was struck by a drunk driver barreling down the street at over a hundred miles per hour. Thomas’s body was split in half from the force of the hit, each half left mangled in the middle of the street while the driver sped off into the night.


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