FUCKING SYMBOLISM

There was a boy. Nothing special about him, just a boy. One day he asked his mother, “why is it so dark?” She replied by telling him that it was 2:30 pm and that it was perfectly light out. The boy was confused. A few days later the boy was taken to an optometrist and told that he was legally blind. Skip a head a few decades and the boy, now a man, is still blind and now has trouble moving his limbs and his peers see him as a couple and are vocal about this with him. The man visits his general doctor and is told he is paralyzed from the neck down. The man now 45 sees nothing and feels nothing. Later that day the man returns to his home on the 31st floor of a rather nice building on the upper East side and has his wife dress him in what she describes as his nicest suit. The man calm headedly maneuvers his wheelchair to the roof of the building. And without hesitation rolls off of the roof of the building. The man is numb to the point that he does not feel the fall nor the impact, all he feels is a release. The man, now dead is no different from before. The sad thing is the light from the beginning was always there, all he needed to know was how to flip the switch. If you are worried for me after reading this you should be but not becuase I’m going to kill myself or others, I’m not. You should be worried becuase if it’s not obvious. I’m fucking struggling and so are a lot of other people and they might actually do something other than write stories.