Experimental Fiction / D.S. Variety.

Transcribed from droplet #1397237535

Brain hemorrhages. Involuntary homicide. The less fortunate need not be explained their fate, for they have already met it. A shame, truly. But the question remains: what force determines our fate? Is there a God, a being, a feeling, that moves us along a path? Or is it on our own shoulders, weak and unintelligent by comparison? Neither option is encouraging to me.

Whose cide are you on? Homicide, genocide, infanticide, uxoricide, parricide... the list continues. I find it difficult to concentrate on other tasks when so much dark can be contained in one's heart. When a lack of regard for another life trumps the positive actions we no doubt possess. Perhaps when one reaches the brink and falls, it is not always their fault, but the fault of others. That, though, still leaves the ones who choose to fall. The ones who feel there is no returning from the moonswept dark.

How do we save the ones who don't want saving?