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Observations From The Window
A story I wrote several years ago.
Reality no longer existed to him... It had become the mere ravings of a mind long deprived of sanity... Nightmares intruded upon him from every angle in the way that flies will swarm to a creature close to death... He took a step, and another, and a third, before swaying and falling to the ground...Had anyone been watching they would have most certainly pronounced him to be inebriated, but for the fact , no one was watching... No one cared, no one noticed... no one except for me...
I watched him with the cruel gaze of the child setting fire to ant hills as he attempted escape from his nightmare. I did not go to his side, nor did I offer assistance. I merely observed. The world we know has become a powerfully dangerous place... To do more than observe is to invite danger upon one's self. To show empathy for a fellow beings plight has become a mark of weakness that allows one to be preyed upon easily. In a time when the very legal system is set up to protect the criminals, the honest man no longer has freedom and, that said, the righteous man is extinct, a thing of legend. None of us can claim to be upright anymore... we destroyed what we were given... we trampled the world beneath our feet and left its corpse to dry in the sun. We allowed it to happen without thought or word against the process... and we perpetuate our pillaging still...
We have become a society of individuals... separated from one another by our own nature... our personal demons have become our personal gods... we turn on the television and watch people die brutally and call this entertainment... we burn thousands upon thousands of acres of rain forest and yet expect that our children will continue to breathe... we stand idly by whilst innocence is lost to perverse appetite and still dare to call ourselves civilized human beings... we have lost compassion and instead grown the ability to stand at the window and watch another’s death without remorse...when did we become thusly civilized? What great sin brought it upon us? How long can a mind remain sane under such conditions? Is it possible for the human psyche to become so detached that it sees itself as a separate being?
The man in the snow looked like me, same stature, same hair, same taste in clothes...yet I did nothing to reach him, did not call out, did not go to his aid... He was there, alone, dying in the snow on a lot and no one, save myself, would know of the fall of this once great man who had been me. Now I stand, looking out the pane at the body that was once my own... I feel... nothing.