The End.


I see death before my eyes.  I find myself nailed to 
the tree of life.  That great tree reaches to the heavens 
and all along it's height it tortures our very lives.  
I understand Christ's' pain, nailed to the cross of life.  
Made simply, unable.  Only death could give him a 
peaceful release, a happy end.  We try to climb that 
tree, ripped by thorns and torn by briars.  Yet we go on.  
Only to find the most beautiful of flowers, and they're 
poisoned.  All of this pain surrounds us forever.  Yet 
we go on.  There is no real reason, no purpose for our 
lives, we don't know why we live, we just do.  We go on.

If life is pain then death must be pleasure.  Perhaps we 
are kept from death to deny us happiness, to keep ecstasy 
in fantasy.  I've reached a limb of that great tree, smelled 
a poisoned flower, and feel all that pain doubly again.  In 
short spasmodic thrashing I do destroy all that which is 
around me.  I sever the ropes that hold me to my pain.  I 
soon find that I am the master of my own destiny.  I can 
give myself release.  I refuse to go on.  I leap from the 
edge.  For a few moments I am utterly free.  Then I dive into.......

The End.


Fulgin
11/13/92