forty five. remember

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forty five
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remember

forty five⋇⋆✦⋆⋇↳ remember ↲

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LIFE is an absolute, utterly continual force of being

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LIFE is an absolute, utterly continual force of being. Where there is birth of a righteous entity, there is life. There is a flow of it, so strong, that it is strained throughout that mortal soul's entire time of existence. It threads that being through the essence of living; heart thumping, blood rushing, diaphragm expanding — simply existing, because that is exactly what life is.

Life is continual. Forever, and always. For, once a soul has used through its entire might, life still holds a grip on it. All because, once something has lived, truly lived, it is never again going to be quiescent. Even without the body, the soul can still breathe, in a sort. Our souls in the simplest form, are raw bits of energy.

As the scientists used to claim, under the laws of thermodynamics: Energy can be changed from one form to another, but it cannot be created or destroyed.

That is how life is continual.

In the beginning of this long journey towards something more than survival, I was fighting. Fighting for myself. All I ever wanted then, was a place to lay my head to rest. Fresh water and small amounts of food, if I could be so lucky. Around my waist, I carried holsters to weapons no child should ever yield. Pockets clinked with the metallic vibration of bullets. My hands had never been so tainted with someone else's remains. I was a monster. Not the kind I used to be afraid of living underneath my propped mattress. Not something like my father. No, I was something else completely. What was so odd about it, was that I was only adapting to everything else around me. Everyone. We were all monsters, alive or not. Maybe the dead, even less than the ones left alive. Their souls owned little to no penance. But us? We had a lifetime of torture in the depths of a place much worse than hell, for surviving. Survivors were only still around back then, without merit. We were more ghastly, more bloody, and more deadly than those creatures we feared of in the forest.

Then, I saw them. The group, who had been living inside the prison walls. At first, I thought that they were just like me. Monsters. I agreed to go with Brian. I stood by his side as those chained fences collapsed on their safe haven. After all, what were a couple more dead beings? Especially if they were benefiting us. Our survival. Giving me and the soldiers a place to finally succumb into our monstrous nature. Here, we could roam freely among the dark corridors. We could growl, and bear our teeth. A couple more dead beings, were nothing. Not considering what we all must have previously done, to still be here. Alive, breathing. Those things were what made us so vile.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 | 𝘤. 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴Where stories live. Discover now