• Member Since 2nd Aug, 2013
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Exsort Beat


Not a synth.

Aug
19th
2013

Explaining the obvious · 9:25am Aug 19th, 2013

Anyone can write a story, everyone is capable of thinking about writing and put it into action. I mean, sure, they can have the best plan for a story, the best layout, and the best detail that can possibly be jammed into the adventure... Hell, even an idea that no one has ever come up with. Bar none. and they believe its the best story they've ever read.

Because its THEIR story, they created it, they put it in action... made it come alive.

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Short test of Immersion

I don't care who see's this, a note regardless: No, I DO NOT promote/condone suicide, nor anything that has to do with it. This was just a test to my ability to write something that didn't require massive planning on my part, yet still hits on a painful topic with my own thriller-esk spin on it. I repeat, wrote for fun while having a banter war with a friend over chat. Original written to see what his reaction would be with no intended impact to my own well-being, his or any others. Please do take it as such, and don't fire me.

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...Until that nagging, small feeling everyone lives with tells you to put more and more pressure behind your foot.

It's the same nagging feeling of looking down of a twenty foot building, that little voice in the back of your mind telling you should do it just to see what it would feel like to jump to your end.

Just then, for that single, instantaneous moment, you feel yourself taking a step. One. Two. What are you doing?

Jumping of course, you tell yourself. No. Why? Because you can. it's your own will to do so, and make it so. Three.
Getting closer now, step by step. By God, you can just do it on impulse now. Its so easy! Four...

Five. Do you feel that wind? It's the taste of freedom, it's so close. Six. Should you get a running start to feel the wind around your face as you take the plunge?
It'd be a good idea, wouldn't it? It'd be fun to feel that fleeting moment of pure, unadulterated fear. Fear! You stop. Two more steps. That's all it takes.

Why? you ask again. Why? Why now? Why ever? Now your having second thoughts. You could have jumped with just barely two more steps. Why stop suddenly?
Does It hurt? Maybe. Did you want to jump? Yes. Would it have been fun? No. No, you tell yourself, no it would not.
Why not? ... Your not sure. Not anymore. It was supposed to be fun. Why not? WHY?!

And now you're not sure if this voice is you anymore. Because I'm scared. I never wanted to die. This isn't my idea.
I don't want to jump. Jump anyways.

No.

Fine.

Seven.

What. No, you didn't do that. You couldn't have. it's not you.
You froze with fear naught but a second ago, so why are you inching forward still? Stop. You can't. Stop! It won't let you.
The wind has picked up considerably standing this close to the edge now. Please Stop!

It won't relent, It can't stop, and It will never do so no matter how much you fight.

Please.

What did It just tell you?

Eight.

And then there was nothing under your feet, a whistling torrent of air, and you were gone.