Skyscape, Part 1, v1.0

How sheep-like was I to have fallen for such crap? Who was Malakai to just suddenly whisk me away from my comfortable teddy bear and replace it with a dirty rifle? To tell me that everything I held so dearly was simply trivial; something to be forgotten.

He told me to not fall for what anyone had to say, no matter how convincing their answers may be. And yet, I went on, like the buffoon that I was, falling for those very words. Like some sort of naive little girl who was being seduced by the devil himself.

I feel like such a fool now.

I know Malakai didn't mean any wrong, but how can you preach against preaching? How can you just tell someone to abandon everything they ever loved or ever knew and not offer something to replace it with? It's pure rape, I tell you. Rape. Babies never ask to be born, but they are. So, why strip them of everything that would at least soften the harshness of this ugly world only to leave them to fend for themselves?

It's just evil.

For all I care, Malakai was the naive one--naive for having done that to me. He was too caught up in his own ideas, and went about preaching them like the messiah. Sure, he had wondrous, almost genius things to say, but he was still a slave to his own thoughts nonetheless.

That's what made him crack. He could no longer bear the weight of his own ideals; they were just too self-destructive. To adhere to them would also mean to reject them. I'm sure this wasn't at first apparent to him, but as he went on refining his answers, affirming his views--newer, more paradoxical questions began to arise. And you can't answer questions with questions.

It's hard to believe in much of anything while being aware of your surroundings. When you're aware of your surroundings, delusions aren't as vivid. And when you're not delusional, apathy ensues. Let me tell you, Malakai was the most lucid man I've ever known.

It was sanity, not insanity, that killed him.

He died in the name of something that he was barely starting to only half-believe in. Oh sure, in the beginning he was as vehement as the best of them. But as time went on, his apprehensions grew. His exhibitions became inhibitions.

He began to question himself.

But that was later on in his life. When I met him, he was just an over-opinionated bald guy. I was the bartender. He was the drunk going on philosophical tirade.