The Last Letter

Words seem to fade into this darkened realm of summer sunbeams and gentle bird whispering. The acknowledgment of life going on without you there seems to strike your ultimate chord. The sun will still rise and fall, the birds will still sing their songs, and all that you'll eventually do is rot.

But the rotting itself doesn’t bother me. If there's one more thing to reconsider, it's the pain. Not mine, but theirs. And the only thing I'll have to put up to when the blade pierces my skin is all the tears that i have no right to induce.

I've heard of so many people writing these letters, as a good-bye sign from beyond here. One thing they never miss to write is "I'm sorry" for so many reasons. Why do they do that? Why should they be sorry for trying their best and failing? They tried, didn't they? Thrown here, in this God forsaken part of the Universe, amongst species too self-centered to even resume their essence to a thousand of their genetic requirements, forced to live according to social and political rules that they could never understand. But they tried. They tried to understand the meaning of coins and bills, to comprehend the tendency to bury and cry for bodies and the laughter and celebration for so-called marriages that end in so-called divorces.

They understood Nature. They understood the language of Flowers. They learned to communicate without words and cry without tears. They learned to reproduce the songs of the wind, the flowing of water, the dance the earth dances and the flames of fire. But art never was what it seemed to be here. As one last resort, they threw everything away and turned to these humans. It was to be the last solution. If this would fail, it was to be very clear that their purpose here was an error of a higher system.

So they did. Human psychology. Human behaviorism. Human rules. Even Humanity. Everything failed. Everything so empowering about humans seems to be washed away by their evil nature. We all hope we are good inside. But most of us aren't. The ones that fight this system end up like Christopher McCandless or Ghandi. And what may remain is your name. After a while, that dusts away, too, because humans have this unexplained tendency to forget. I guess forgetfulness comes with death.

Guess I want to forget, too. But it's always gonna be those bloody tears piercing my soul before the piercing of the flesh... How human am I?...