STORY HERE EXCERPT We justify that guilt is but an illusion our brains play on us to ensure social survival. So as not to be abandoned and left to rot without the organ of the collective. It spurns us so we do not insult the collective, or the ones close to us. Sometimes it isn't earned. Merely berating ourselves in the hope that one day we will stop being horrible to others. Other times we deserve the cocktail of anguish that keeps us up at night. Because the only way to atone is to bear that scar forever, and ensure you live a live where you don't choose to take on another.
The rationale didn't make it hurt any less.
The guilt was a malicious, cold, minty poison gradually killing the cells with the same sick curiosity as a child plucking the legs off an ant.
Each flash of cognition and memory was like an eight inch molten rod passing through the gaps of his ribs. If remembering was all that was left of living, he surely should have wished he was dead.
But remember, he did.
----- It took me two years to get around to finishing this, but It's done.
Darkwitt has been a character of mine for over 15 years now. Initially he was a power fantasy, an exploration to be something larger that I always aspired to be. As time went on, I wanted to further develop him and those around him.
I don't know if I'll live long enough to finish this. But for what it is worth, I am proud of it.
I don't expect you to read it. It's long, and has no sexy content in it. But if you do, I would love to hear a comment from you.
I'd also love to extend a heartfelt thank you to Bruno for providing this artwork for the cover. He came across me writing this and, despite not really getting the point of it, still made this beautiful piece to commemorate it.
