Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

There is no such thing as emptyness

The death of the soul is not too uncomfortable. At first there is pain, then there is sadness and hate, but in the end.. after all the waves and fluctuation in the emotions have passed, there is nothing but the empty, calculating mind driving the body. I can't say I feel any better or any worse. The feeling of nothing is what takes the place of happiness. The realization of the seasons coming and going reconnect with the sense of time, and age becomes nothing but a number placed upon the steps leading towards my end. There is a sense of peace. A release from the fears and the troubles of my life have dissipated, leaving a calmness and reassurance that everything is neither bad nor good, it simply is.

How one loses their connection to their most sacred and spiritual self is nothing to be recommended for there is a price to pay that many could not bargain for. Your identity is shattered and split. The soul will fight, and in its arsenal it will bring forth the weapons of guilt and remorse. Suffering and regret will follow, along with desperation and overwhelming sadness. To overcome this is to walk through fire and drown a thousand times over. The wanting of release from the prison of flesh which binds us will lead the weakest of heart to commit themselves to leave this earth by dealing death a helping hand, and bring about their own end. In the end, what remains of your soul will flicker away like a candle losing its light.

Once the soul is gone, there is much to be felt in this world. The cold air of the winter season becomes another external sensation and not troublesome at all. A cut on the skin, deep and painful to others, is nothing more than an occurrence of misfortune and nothing else. Pain cannot trouble you, fear is no more.

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