Forgive Me.

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Forgive Me.

Postby darthbrowser » January 5th, 2014, 1:23 am

I want to apologize to the many who may have worried for my life about a month ago.

I live.

For the sake of addressing this now, the reason I am making a public thread is because so many messaged me. Perhaps indolence seeks to caress me, but I see this as the best choice.

And I feel you should know.

I had a sister. My only sibling. My own age. I will not trouble whoever reads this with the additional ravagings of my life, but know that she was the only one I ever had. The only one I felt true emotion for - the only one I allowed myself to feel emotion for.

Many had worked to offset my physical needs, but only she had given me more.

Once distracted with the demagogues and pleasures and noise of world, like all children were, she had walked further than I and sought to save me as well.

A radiant angel in the systemic darkness of night, her wings had covered me and surrounded me with an Eden of light.

Always acting with the knowledge, determination, and sadness of one far older, she had effectively raised me.

She bent my mind to logic, she teased me with philosophy, she indulged me in conversations I could have with no one else.

And with what humanity I could find in my soulless casket, I sought to learn. To prove she had succeeded, if for no other reason. To prove she was transcendental.

In her success, I found joy. In her humility, I found sorrow. But always, I sought to prove myself, if only for her.

But the nightmares which haunt all who would give them form through their own treacherous thoughts lurked.

Always above me, those apparitions hunted her with greater ferocity. And, like some blind tool of the malevolent, I questioned her regarding my own daemons. And, without thought, she always answered me, always took my pursuers away by throwing her own mind before them.

In my admiration, I would not contemplate that she would be left alone, that she would find a riddle unanswerable.

And so, the leviathans hunted. And, through sheer number, they found her.

Nihilism. Determinism. Absolutism. And a thousand others, elevated by the diction of intellectuals, as if hiding their true form.

All unrelated. But, in a show of universal cruelty, they all came together for her.














On the 15th of November, a Friday. I had the honor. The curse. The enlightenment. My eyes, pried open as if to be gouged.
It was I who found her.

I had rushed in her room, a dark foreboding in my heart - a foreboding I had hidden for some time.

Deep within the depths of my erudite shell, the mask she had created for me, my soul collapsed.

It was a simple set up. A chair, kicked over. The ceiling fan had been dismounted, its mount repurposed to serve a far darker god.

And before me was purity and truth, kindness and joy, the embodiment of the philosopher's stone, as if she was the Greek goddess Epigone, hanging from a tree after finding the body of her father Icarius.

Her feet were pointed towards the floor, as if mocking it because it was not worthy to support them.

The noose around her neck left a blue and black ring under and above it, as if the collar which held her in the world had become visible with her death.

And I simply looked. I didn't call out, or approach, or back away.

But I was trembling.

And my eyes were teary - my arrogance gone, my apathy having fled.

I can't truly describe what I felt, for I felt so much.

I had always known, deep down, that it would come to this. That this was how destiny would one day betray me.

And out of all I felt, surprise was the only emotion absent.

I had always run from the foreboding, but now, as if in some nightmare made terrifying by its sheer realism, I saw my dread given form.

I don't know how long I stood there, but eventually they found me...and her.

And throughout the rest of the evening, I heard them mock her. They cried. And remarked over and over. "She had so much potential, how could she have done this?" "She was doing well, why would she do this?" "She was so ahead, she had such a great future, why would she throw it away?"

And so the plebeians, unable to comprehend what she had comprehended, unable to see what she had seen, rambled about her.

I could ignore so much, I could be so cold, but I could not ignore the scorn. I was forced to listen, to be affected by every word, and then to have them question why I didn't partake. But I endured, because I knew what I would do.

That night, I had a nightmare. I found doubt. I saw an apocalyptic beast, a dragon with many heads. At first, I only saw three - they were grotesque, and upon each head was a word. "Fear." "Ignorance." "Chaos." Those were their names, the words on their heads. And I saw them devour flesh, and I was afraid. And then I saw three more heads, but these heads were beautiful, adorned with diamonds, their skin constantly twisting into beautiful fractal patterns. Their heads were perfectly symmetrical and androgynous. Their heads were adorned with their names as well. "Logic." "Veracity." "Impartiality." Everything I had once praised. And then, I saw them slaughter and feast with the first three heads, as if there was no difference between them.

And I was terrified.

A final, seventh head emerged, its neck protruding from in between the two sets of three. It was much larger than the others, and its name, the word on its head, was "Truth." It was repulsive and beautiful. Constantly changing, eyes and mouths and toothed orifices appeared and disappeared across it, oozing maggots and human waste. Wings of light and perfect orbs of dancing rainbows swam across its features. Tentacles, cut open and bleeding, burst from across its already hideous face. I can not describe how terrible it was, how horrified I was.

I tried to scream, but found myself paralyzed in fear. I had never been so terrified.

And then, in its eternal dance between beauty and filth, I saw her face flash over it. It was logical, she was an epitome of perfection to me, her face was in place with its rainbows and fractals.

But it was her face.

Being desecrated by this beast.

My fear turned to rage. My terror disappeared in an instant, unspeakable horror replaced by a confidence and a hatred I had never felt before. I stared at it, watching it twist and distort and molt in ever more sickening ways, but repulsion or fear never again crossed my mind. Only rage. I had been a bodyless observer throughout the dream, but now I willed my consciousness toward it, as if intending to somehow harm it, to kill it for what it had done. And I woke up.

My heart was pounding. I was sweating profusely. I could hear a relative crying in an adjacent room. But I know what it all meant. I had seen knowledge and reason devour her alongside chaos and blindness. Everything she loved - everything I loved- I had watched betray her.














Over the next few days, I said my goodbyes. This site was included in that - through my profile update, easy to miss. I said more to those who inquired.

I looked at the scars on my arms and body. Mathematical equations, representations of hyperspheres and transdimensional constants, I had painfully cut into places on my skin, signs of my devotion to the absolute. They were intermingled with random lacerations and slashes, evidence of my emotions in the sea of reason.

She had never approved of my cutting, but now I felt shame beyond understanding. How could I have cut, have wounded myself in pity, when she was undergoing so much more pain? How could I have felt sorrow when she was standing against so much more?

But I had known what I was going to do from when I first found her. As I said my goodbyes to my internet endeavors, and as I wrote cryptic poetry to those I knew in real life, I procured the needed chemicals.

Using the most of my knowledge and equipment, and taking advantage of how distracted everyone around me was, I prepared a solution of sodium pentobarbital.

And on the night of November 19th, I prepared a syringe loaded with the solution.

I found my Ulnar artery and inserted the syringe into it.

I was very emotional - to an extent I had never been before.

And I was joyous for this - I faced the terrors which had killed her, and I told them that they would not claim me.

Emotion would kill me. Not thought.

My heart would end this, not my mind.

And as I choked back tears, I thought of her. Despite the resistance in my overloaded vein, I forced every drop out of the syringe before I allowed myself to fall limp.














When I woke up, I knew I had failed her. I had failed everything.

The nurses rushed to my side, calling the attention of doctors and relatives.

Their smiles and energetic greetings mocked my failure.

Despite having just come out of a coma, I cried.














The lectures never ceased. Family members, mental health "professionals," religious demagogues. All harassed me, rambling about that which they could not comprehend. I was always surrounded with the helminths, yet I had never been so alone.

I had once discussed nihilism, complained of apathy. I had once claimed allegiance to them.

But I never really knew them before now.

No insult or jeer could harm me.

No expression of love or kindness could move me.

I was livid on the night I had attempted suicide. Filled with emotion.

I was truly alive on that night, unaware this fact would soon be shrouded in irony.

Afterwards, I was soulless and empty. Not broken, or derelict, or depressed.

Just...nothing.

I know what it means to be dead.














And so I have "lived."

My life maintained by those who never see any other truth.

My life maintained by my own weariness.

I am too tired to fight those who wish to make me live.














I am gravely sorry if this hurts anyone.

It is something I have to say.

Something which deserves to be articulated.

To someone.

To anyone who cares to listen and see.

A reply. An explanation.














An apology.
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Re: Forgive Me.

Postby ~MP3 Amplifier~ » January 5th, 2014, 4:22 am

Y'know what, I'm just glad that you're alive.
It's the reason I didn't want to remove your account, in case something like this happened.

I was admittedly very worried about you. Even if you don't feel okay right now, as long as you're still here, that's the most important part.
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Re: Forgive Me.

Postby nin10mode » January 5th, 2014, 5:53 am

I would be lying if said I wasn't relieved. What can I say? It might be to your surprise, but there are many inside this human population don't follow any of those grotesque or beautiful heads. But perhaps that's the problem?

Very few have seen what you have. That alone makes someone feel alone, and I think that's what I think you are right now; not nothing, but lonely. I try sharing my personal endeavors, good and bad, terrific on both spectrums, with my everyday friends, but every time I don't get the understanding I want, the understanding that I knew and felt myself. It makes me feel lonely, that they don't really know me. And they don't; not completely, not yet.

That's the thing though. They still have the chance to understand me and what I think constitutes as events that define me, and there are still people out there that have a chance of understanding you and what experiences define you. Don't give up too easily. I don't believe I'm the best person to start with; I feel included in that classification of those who never see any other truth.


Who knows, I'm most likely just rambling and trying to force my optimistic views onto you.
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Re: Forgive Me.

Thumbs up x3

Postby Doram » January 6th, 2014, 7:32 am

I'll write this for you first, and then I will move it to a place of honor to help others, but I want you to hear me most of all, friend. I understand what you wrote, and I care, so I must do something, and if this is all I can do, then it will just have to be good enough.



Apathy is the enemy. Not caring about people enough to ask questions. Not caring about the world enough to save it. Not caring about yourself enough to make the changes you need. Apathy is the enemy. Why do adults not understand? They do not have enough time to understand. They are too busy fighting for their lives. Why are they fighting for their lives? Because they were told they had to, and because the ones that had time to help were busy caring about something else, like money and power. Why is that a matter of apathy? Forced or chosen, care is not put where it should be. And that is a problem. A fatal one.

Apathy is the enemy. Why are we given the ability to reason and act if it is not to make decisions. Why are we given the ability to feel, if it is not to remind us of our connections and give us direction? Why are we given the ability to communicate if it is not to connect and share with others? Why are we given the ability to listen, if it is not to integrate the learning of others into our own lives? Why are we given the ability to see if it is not to show us what needs to be seen and acted on? Why are we here if not to live our lives?

Apathy is the enemy. We are taught to not hear. We don’t hear the voices in our heads and out of them. We don’t hear the calls of the wary and pained. We don’t hear each other, especially when we need it most. We are taught not to see. We don’t see the suffering all around us. We don’t see our own suffering. We don’t see anything broken with our world, and we are told that it is for the protection of our sanity. We are taught not to feel. We don’t worry about the trash on the ground. We don’t worry about the chemicals in our food. We don’t worry about whether our friends are all right, or our parents, or our society. We are taught not to think. We are spoon fed our lessons for rote memorization, and then told to go out there and just do what the teacher tells you to do, for just long enough, for you to go out and just do what your boss tells you to do.

Apathy is the enemy. Do your homework, do your chores, do your job. Watch TV. Buy these things. Enjoy these things. Live this life. The one I’m making for you. You don’t need to understand. You don’t need to do anything else. You don’t need to care. Well, wait. You seem to completely break when you don’t care at all. Well fine then, care about all this stuff that doesn’t mean anything. Money. Power. Fame. Fashion. Death.

APATHY IS THE ENEMY.

We are all so self deluded, and self absorbed, and self challenged, that we are all self destructive. We have divided ourselves, and distracted ourselves, and confused ourselves so much that we cannot live our lives properly, nor can we live together properly. We are told to not care and not think, so we do, and then we wonder why there is so much cruelty and lack of solutions in the world. There’s so much wrong, and it is other people’s jobs, so we cannot do anything, right? We need to freeze in fear and apathy… If you thought about it for even a second, you would want to do something. If you cared for just a second, you would NEED to do something.

APATHY IS THE ENEMY!

Care about the world around you. Go on. Do it. It hurts, right? Lots? Yup. Everybody’s doing it. Hurting. That much. So very much. Some of us have learned our apathy lessons well, and can ignore the pain. Others cannot. Mostly ones that are capable of thinking and caring the most. What can be done? Well, you guessed it. Think. Care. Then ACT. Yup. You can act once you have thought and felt about something, and then thought and felt about what to do. Then you can change. You can use that fiddly thing called free will, and make a decision, and then you can use those things on the end of your arms and do something. Can you fix everything? Hell no. But you can fix your own corner of the world. And if everybody in the world fixed their corner, well, guess what? The world would be fixed!! Caring is the gateway to responsibility. Responsibility is the beginning of the solution to all the problems in the world.

APATHY IS THE ENEMY!!
THINK. FEEL. ACT. LIVE!

BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE.
Before you give up, or we all give up, and we all die.
Apathy is loneliness and isolation. Apathy is destruction and decay.

Giving up is letting apathy win. Giving up is the only true failure.
Giving up is the same thing as killing yourself.
Choosing to die is a waste of human potential,
especially when you have the chance to help make things better,
even in the very smallest of ways: your own life.
And if you can help in that small way, perhaps you can help in bigger ones too.
Who knows where all this living and caring could lead...
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The foundation of such a method is love.
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Re: Forgive Me.

Postby darthbrowser » January 6th, 2014, 12:42 pm

Don't you see?

Doram wrote:...we are told that it is for the protection of our sanity.


It's true!

She wasn't apathetic, and look how she paid.

Perhaps she felt hopeless, as no one else could see what she did.

Perhaps she had encountered a philosophical challenge to hope, rather than a practical one.

Perhaps I shouldn't defile her by attempting to understand her final voyages into the empyrean sea of thought.



But regardless, she encountered something she could not prevail over. Nor was it a triviality - she wouldn't have gone to such an extreme over something of lessor importance. It was a fundamental flaw, though I know not what it may have been.



She was in Mensa. Her spatial intelligence quotient was 154. She was on track to be awarded an honorary doctorate by the time she turned 20.



Tell me - if she could not overcome what she had found...


what chance us?




I fear for myself. I fear I will one day reach the astral plane she had leaped off of - I fear my own thoughts will eventually evolve to have the sensory perception to see whatever she had seen...and be forced to let it claim me as well, another soul to add to its undoubtable collection of scholars and intellectual Olympians.


Thought betrayed her, and many others.

Perhaps it is not a betrayal. Perhaps philosophy and reason were the handmaidens of this beast all along - its insidious plot to tempt the best and brightest souls to its side, while excluding all those unworthy, all those who couldn't see...or never bothered too.


I seek the cloak of ignorance, but I can not reclaim that which I once cast off.


I seek the veil of blindness, but I have already tasted sight.


I want to be content. With the world. With myself. With the absolute, untaunted by its promise of truth.


But my soul is already damned...unless I personally ensure it falls before it ever reaches the rooftop.
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Re: Forgive Me.

Postby Harmless » January 8th, 2014, 9:26 am

I suppose she could've overcome any problem that required some sort of smartness, but how was her emotional state at the time? Do you think someone did something to tip the scale? Or did she not feel welcomed in the world to begin with?
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Re: Forgive Me.

Thumbs up x2

Postby Doram » January 8th, 2014, 8:46 pm

Let me tell you, friend. I have stared into the abyss as well. This conversation tries me as few things can, in fact. I have had days darker than most could countenance, and I have pulled myself back from the brink, with much help from loved ones. There are stains on my soul that will never go away, but I tell you true - there is hope. There is happiness out there. You just have to reach for it. I can think of no other way to say it than this. We create our realities every day, and all we need to do is envision a brighter future for ourselves, and we will find it. It is as simple as that, and as such, probably the hardest thing you will ever do. But it is also the most worthwhile thing you will ever do. Seek and ye shall find. And for all the forces arrayed against you, I say this. My truest motto. All that is required for evil to triumph, is for good men to do nothing. Seek help and happiness and life, and deny the devil another victory. Do it for yourself. Do it for all the good you can do in your lifetime. Do it for the world. We need you, whether you know it or not. This is what your sister failed to understand, and the whole world is lesser for it. She will be missed. I will remember her always now, as will anyone who reads your words here. Her memory will do good yet still, if only you do not allow it to bring you low as well. Make her sacrifice mean something by pulling yourself back from that brink I see you contemplating, and join the rest of us as a force for good. I wish you could see the potential that I see in you. Potential for wonders. Potential for greatness. You can do it. I will help. So will others.

I wish for you peace and happiness, and I hope that you can see the benefit of reaching out for the good that you richly deserve.
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The foundation of such a method is love.
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Re: Forgive Me.

Postby -BY » January 9th, 2014, 10:19 am

I've looked at this thread for way too long now. Always trying to find a way to express my thoughts as well. Of course I'm once again not able to. But there are a few things I can say for sure. Listen to Doram, make up your opinion of his thoughts and you will see that he's one of those more wise guys, you will find across the web. He helped countless people, I'm not even capable to tell how much. And both posts your story as well as the way apathy should be seen, really caught my attention and I've been thinking for hours about it.

However. While my vocabulary is nothing, compared to yours, I hope I've still be able to show at least a glance of my thoughts. I'm trully hoping the best for you, darthbrowser. I'm aware that I haven't been around when you got through these things, but I'm still feeling with you. : /

There are a bunch of idealists in every corner of our world. I envy every single one, I'm knowing.
Also a little quote, that got to my mind while reading through this thread.

'Everything is going to be fine in the end. If it's not fine it's not the end.' -Oscar Wilde
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Re: Forgive Me.

Postby WickedOreo » January 9th, 2014, 9:26 pm

I know you don't know me as we've never conversed on forums before, but Doram brought you up in a conversation we were having, and I absolutely had no idea. I had mentioned to him that both of you converse intellectually out of my league. I'm not much in terms of intellect, but I've personally been through my own feelings of... destroying my being on more than one occasion. I have a Skype account if you'd like to talk about it more, or possibly form a group between the three of us.

Yeah, I'm quite awful trying to sympathize at an hour like this.
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