Tuesday, October 25, 2011

A choice

Once, there was a boy. He lived high up in the mountains where only his kind could survive. One day, he went out for one his usual walks. He felt something amiss. Curious, he walked down a hill to a place he never knew. He felt different, and he liked it. As the days passed, he ventured lower and lower. He saw a lot. Then finally, he reached a steep cliff. Unable to control his boyish curiosity, he took a few quick peeks. Down below was the endless abyss his mother told him about. Death, she called it. He knew many other boys, younger than him, who had traversed Death. Some returned, marred by the destructive forces, slow and devoid of their youthful vitality. The others were lost.. lost... lost.

"The abyss has no bounds... Fortunately the virtue of limited life entails the finiteness of misfortune. Plus, the land never disappears. There's still hope for them." The boy thought. Then something went amiss. For a moment, he lost his ground. He put one foot into Death. The greyness was palpable. He felt vibrations, oscillations, peaking with sadness, a vanishing degree of joy. The joy, it was the joy. The hedonist's dream. But ever growing sadness was the aftermath. Never ending cycles of foolishness, of joy and of pain. Before the darkness could take his mind, he pulled himself out. Staring back at the abyss, he understood. 

He turned around and never came back.

Picture from: http://www.art.com/products/p14498962-sa-i2970428/man-on-a-cliff-looking-down-at-a-river.htm