The Dark Ages.

Let me succumb to my misfortune. Heighten me when im ready. Im scared I'd be a one-hit wonder. I'd die first before the so-called normality of the journey arrive. I never cry me a river, i cry me a fucking ocean. Full of dead fishes and plastic bottles.

Let me know how to feel good about my being, or the cuntery of this bullshit world will fuck me up.

Every human being know to "never give up". A million-century old saying that's probably not even a saying anymore. But giving up can be a necessity. Knowing to give up at the right time can be a gift. Why keep rowing when there's a thunderstorm coming? Why keep hiking when a landslide will kill you? Why keep pursuing happiness when you can't even handle a sliver of joy?

An orange fox and a pink hare. They were in love. Inseperable from each other. They chose love when they're genes were meant for war. For their world, years of foxes tearing up the flesh of hares and other small mammals were once a terrifying norm. But somehow, since they were toddlers, they were taught that predatorship were merely a sociatal construct. "The propaganda of fascits", they say. "Those black-and-white photographs of desolation were fabricated by the facist animals who chose hate over peace" a rottweiler teacher so passionately claimed.

The idea of love being triumphant were embedded in every brain of the animals. The orange fox and the pink hare unconditionally accepted this fact because they were in love. The orange fox can lose his mind just by looking at the pink hare's beautiful beady eyes. Their admiration conquered all meaning, the touch of each other infatuated them beyond definition.

(Cont'd)

"But what is real? Are the love that we so sweetly posses a reality? Or is it just merely an illusion? Are the fondness we have toward each other just an indirect result of their teachings? Of course the animals knew that peace are a much better alternative that havoc - but is it really reality if it's so meticulously constructed?" This startling dilemma popped out of nowhere in the orange fox's tiny head. He strated questioning everything. The quest for truth is an everlasting journey the animal society has have. He wanted to understand but understanding hurts.

He started to cut himself. Revealing the cold red his ancestors always possessed. A pain that resulted from something he could see satisfied him somehow. He knew the blade. It is sharp because it is steel. The clarity of the pain made him feel comfortable about the hurt. He clenched his orange paw and saw the blood trickling down his forearms. The sting vibrated his whole body, gently carrying him throughout the pink sky, flew him with full control.

The pink hare got terrified. She couldn't believe it when he eventually first told her. "I just want to feel again" said the orange fox. "But what about your feeling of me?" the pink hare timidly replied.

Silence. They both stared at each other. A single tear sufficed, wetting the pink hare’s furry cheek. The ugly truth did not only hurt himself, it started to spread around to the mammals around him.

"It was meant for me to hate you, dear. It was meant for me to rip your body into pieces of meat. It was meant for me to eat your flesh and drink your blood. It was meant for me to chew on your innards and to fuck you up"

Exactly two and a half minute later, the orange fox's face is covered with bloody red.

Her head lies lifeless on the grassy concrete.

-jbpk. May 18, 2021. Kopi Balayar.

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