Oblivion
Syne27

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I’ve never been one for acting. It’s just not my forte. I’m more of one of the backstage people, who wait and wait and accept whatever is thrown their way. I’m one of them. But because I don’t act, I never take the initiative - sometimes I miss things. But it’s always okay. After all, I’m one of the backstage crew – I don’t want the spot light, no matter how many friends would share it with me.

I never take chances, because I already screwed up twice. And I’m not sure, what would have happened had I not done anything – had I done what I was supposed to do. Sit backstage and watch the crowd be swept away…

The first time lead me to the forsaken world. The room in the dark that no one uses, because they know it doesn’t lead anywhere. I fell into that place. And there was no getting out. So I faced away from the locked door behind me, and started walking. And the little chamber they said was cramped and useless opened before me like a beautiful horizon. Amazing and enticing, with the end of the path veiled in the mystery of tomorrow. Perhaps, had I merely remained in that beautiful landscape, everything would have been okay. After all, I was used to loneliness…

The second mistake was the one that still haunts me. I thought I was tired of the loneliness, though in actuality I only wanted to see a face not so bright with insanity as mine. So, I climbed over the distant horizon, and fell into the pits of reality. There I was forced to remold myself, to make myself into an image less unique to the realm of society. And it hurt. But it was okay. It was okay, because I’d missed the company of men other than the voices.

And then I met you. You were perfect. Not in any way that society cares about – but you already know my opinion of them. You were artistic, strong, witty, and courageous. And you were invincible. Perhaps, it was because that you too were as shackled by reality as I, but you were always sad. Not so you could see it, but between your smiles you would frown, and between your laughter I could see the held-back sighs. Perhaps society despised you for the same reason I adored you. You were unique, you were powerful, you were cynical, you were brave, and you were untouchable. Oh, you were untouchable!! Or so I thought, then…

Then the devil came out of the shadows, and stole away the love in your heart. And I guess that love was what held the cynical shards from cracking, and when it was unglued, your smiles broke and only your frowns remained. Your creativity vanished, leaving behind only the faint desire to be remembered. Your strength died, your skin became breakable, and your mind might well have broken with your flesh. The sarcasm which defined you faded away into true cynicism, where you could not believe in a better tomorrow, because you knew that it would never come. Your courage had been tempered by fire and forge, but the cruelty in society was too powerful, and you retreated, for the first time in the years I’d known you.

I’m not an actor – I sit backstage, and watch the world come down. Typically, I don’t mind – after all, why should I? The world has never been a nice place. But when it is not the world that is falling, but one of the few people I’ve entrusted my heart with, then I suffer beside them. And when it isn’t just a nameless face, then the voices start talking, and I can’t think straight. And all I can remember about society is that I hate it. And I hate the noise, and the people, and the sorrow that seem to permeate from every surface in the world. And I miss the silence of that lonely realm where there was only me and the horizon.

Twice, I’ve saved people from that world. Because however pleasant it is, it isn’t a realm where you can choose to go, and not suffer more for the desire. If you want to be without pain and fear, you have to not only condemn yourself to that pain, but all the people who knew you, as well. And that is the sort of pain that never stops burning, never stops bleeding… And that pain isn’t beneficial, even if it does allow you to touch the world of Oblivion. I was lucky. I got there without meaning to, and I was able to stay there for a year and a half before the loneliness hit me. I’ve tried to go back since, but my parents caught me trying to find my way, and took the only map I had. And instead they gave me more of thing things I hated – more contact with the society that drove me to try and return to the Oblivion World.

I miss Oblivion, but I have come to grudgingly respect the people, like the old you, who seem as if they would belong so well in that lonely world, but still unfalteringly make their living on the real plane. I’ve talked people back from the brink of Oblivion more than once. And I’ll never forget it. Please, don’t be another one of those people…