comet - drifting

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I attempted to make this as dramatic as I could (without any dialogue or real narrative aspects) so there's that, I apologize if it's a bit difficult to read lol 

I almost got my friend to proofread this until she gave up halfway through the first paragraph and said "you're overthinking it it's perfectly fine" so i guess it is

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CC-2224. "Cody".

He mindlessly carried on, now. He never had to think about anything, and every wall that was built around him was blank. Blank. And he did nothing to change it. He couldn't bring himself to, and why would he? He never thought about it anymore, and when color splashed on the walls he simply wiped it away. That was what he was supposed to do, and he hardly thought about it after it was gone. That wasn't his job, it wasn't his job to wonder what the world meant anymore. It was his job to be mindless, like a robot. And when he did think, he treated it like a stain. He wiped it away, scrubbed it so shiny that he forgot it was ever there.

He didn't know who he looked like anymore. He didn't know who he was, he'd scrubbed himself clean and shiny like he was a stain.

A stain.

It was a simple existence, simply simple. Blankness was what he strived for. Blankness meant he didn't have to think about the shades of purple and pink that he seemed to wander through every so often. Those colors felt like the dust of a past life, and they always seemed to hang in the crisp air between clouds. Those colors felt empty, too, though, so he didn't think about that, either. It was a meandering existence – hardly tedious, hardly thoughtful. He was drifting, like a comet, and the stars passed by. And when they passed by, he'd look away.

He'd look away, and just look back at the blank, mindless drifting behind his visor.

There were no colors streaking by when he closed his eyes. So he closed his eyes, and he didn't have to think. Simply simple. 


He wondered, though; was he a good man? He was a good soldier, a good trooper, and he did what he was supposed to. He didn't think, second guess, or ponder, and when he did he'd wipe it away, like a stain in the blankness of his existence – simply simple as that. 

Though, he couldn't help but wonder. Not that it mattered, but had his drifting changed him? Were there still pieces of that man left behind to pick up?

Was that who he was? Was he a good man?

His thoughts told him he'd been somewhere once. Somewhere, he had learned that he was someone. Now, he simply drifted through the void with a narrow view of white.

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