prompt: bark, title: driven to distraction in misc. flash fiction

  • July 28, 2020, 8:39 p.m.
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  • Public

You must understand, I felt like a failure. Disappointed and lonely, didn’t know what to do. I’d accomplished all these things, made all these things but all I could feel was anxious emptiness. I wandered through halls of home so very long but everything I did to fill that void of self-loathing came up lacking. I meant no harm, you must understand, I hope you understand, you are me after all, part of me, even if it’s something you’ve only suspected.

In the beginning, there was nothing, by and by there was everything, but it was lonely despite all the wonder. Marvels meant nothing if I were alone, if I’d nothing to compare with, no one to talk to. I went mad, withdrew. Made paradox and horror, ripped it up and started over, changing in no useful manner. Spun wheels, rehashed material, compounded terror on terror, worse and worse.

I stumbled on the idea of splitting bits off to experience it in more finite ways. Played around for a while, made angels and demons but still was just talking to myself. Granted free-wills but that will still mine, so it didn’t help. Finally, I stumbled upon making you all forget. Forget you were me, forget there was anything more than what stood before you.

I made people, that’s to say. First, just a few, and it helped. To experience this existence through unknowing eyes, it helped. At least as distraction. The way you play video games or chase sex, I suppose, helped me be less focused on things vast and impossible, seeing it as you do. But every portion shaved to see this differently, I needed more and each new person I grew weaker, a little less whole. That’s where we are now, my multitudinous lost portions, divested of your agency in forgetful division. Where I am as well, split to shreds, driven to distraction, no longer powerful enough to fix things, my bark faint and bite now non-existent. So much for omnipotence.

Psychologists call it “dissociation”, you gave me a word for it, I didn’t have words for things in the beginning, I made it up as I went along. I thank you for that, for words to describe the way I walled off, atom by atom, in the forms of you, to pretend I wasn’t afraid. Just know, for what it’s worth, I didn’t do it to create this fragmented world of fears you live and die in, it just kind of… happened. I’d repair it all were it still within my power but, well, it isn’t.

All I can do now is try and tell you love each other as yourself because you’re all the same thing, the same consciousness, pinballing inside a cage, trying to be less alone. Just like I was. Like we are. Treat yourselves better. Help each other through the suffering I botched in my longing to be even more than everything. Forgive me. You must understand, in the beginning, I was weak.

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