Untitled

by Albert Branson

And the more you wish, the more it hurts. It's true you know. This time it's definitely worse. If only we knew how to stop wishing for things we can't have. Some people call this "hope", I call them stupid. It all started so far back I can't truly remember the day, month, or even year. Not that any of that matters, let's just say it was long ago. Before you were born. I didn't even believe him when he offered me his "gift", I just figured if it would make him happy I'd play along. He told me he'd had enough as he mixed our blood into an old wooden cup. Then he drank the entire mixture and told me to take the cup and keep it with me for as long as I live. After that he pulled out a knife and jabbed it into my throat.

When I woke up I found him lying next to me on the floor. Dead. There's no point in doing anything after this. After you understand nothing can kill you, you learn that there's no reason to live. Everything you make will atrophy, everything you love will die, and all you can do is watch. I'd hoped to experience so many new things, but I learned that all you do is live the same experiences over, and over, and over. You'll learn to not get close to anyone. You'll learn that when you like something, it's best to stay away. One day you'll be rich beyond your dreams, the next, you'll have nothing. Then you'll realize there's nothing left to do, nothing left to look for. Everything's been done before, even things you're doing now that you think are new. I've done them all before. Nothing is as great as you hope it will be.

I'm telling you all this because you should know. If we ever meet, I want you to have a full understanding of what I'm offering. It's not all it's cracked up to be, after about 300 years all you want is a way out. It's all you wish for, it's all you dream about, but it never happens. Sometimes you don't get what you wish for.

albertbranson@yahoo.com

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