This is a work of fiction.
A lot, actually. Life goes on.
But for now let me rest a little now that you’re gone. Because you took some of my nerves with you. My synapses break down, and I cannot control my hormones.
I am angry, sad, disappointed, confused and happy. Happy that you finally rest, and free from all the things life entangled. All the suffering and pain and pleasure, all the demands and the grudges and the hates, and the love. Ah, the love is broken now that you’re gone. But in pieces they lingers, in the space that used to be yours.
You believe in God, and Hell, and Heaven. But I think you deny me for being right, that none of those stuff exist. After you’re gone your energy dissipated, breaks and forms a lot of stuff, the living and the dead, the material defecated, the immaterial… They remain in everyone who know you. And you, you will be really gone when we all forget. Trust me, it’s a blink of the universe eyes. To forget.
Now, what would I do without you? I rest in war when you rest in peace. My rest will end, and I’ll be back fighting in no time, while your peace remains in eternal bliss. In my neurons and others, see you in dreams.
What would I do without you? My best. To live my post life, as long as I could. In letters that people can read. And when they cannot read these letters anymore then adieu… Adieu… Adieu….
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