fuck it im drunk, is this worth writing a short story about?
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The fires were stubborn, they refused to extinguish. The world however was of a different heart, simply bowing to its new and unwanted tyrant. Light after light were put out and the darkness began to thrive. The effects of the expansion of The Lying Rag were felt immediately, if I hadn’t been living through this situation then maybe I would have seen the irony within it, the world faced its destruction from the very thing that allowed us to live. At first it was the draught that killed, taking the most unfortunate of society, the poor and the desolate. After they tried to flee to more hospitable climates the powers that be enclosed them in. The world watched as the dehydration drowned the masses. And they were glad. I was glad. It wasn’t me. The food supply deteriorated dramatically and as it did ties were cut, continents remained enclosed amongst themselves, their limbs flailing wildly to resist amputation, all that came through to us was conjecture. I heard that countries in the east resorted to a brutal cull, a genocide of the lower classes, some even suggested that what remained of them became feasts for the bourgeois. At the time I heard this i dismissed it as some kind of twisted rumour, it just wasn’t feasible. Since then I have stared into the eyes of humanity and been greeted with its cold indifference, the heart of its personality, both outstanding and incomprehensible. To this day I don’t know whether these rumours were true, if there was some sort of god I’d pray it wasn’t. If there was ever a God he has surely burnt along with everything else. The wealthier countries of the west were the best off, this is where I began my story, I was one of the lucky ones, although thinking of the situation we were confronted with as some kind of luck seemed an affront, both to the dead and the living. There was, as horrible as it seems, a sense of entitlement that was felt amongst us, we deserved to survive, the chosen ones. We would need to wander the desert but we would come out above everybody else, faced with the spoils of the destruction of others. It was the fear that instigated the fall of civilisation, spreading rapidly like an infection throughout this once great land. Some said it was insanity that caused the atrocities, I don’t accept this. Given the circumstances the murder of others and oneself seemed the sanest approach. The ones who ignored the futility of the situation were the ones that were irreversibly changed, unrecognisable in what they, in what we, had become. In a world of everlasting light the darkness could be seen everywhere.
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if their are grammar errors then fuck you
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The fires were stubborn, they refused to extinguish. The world however was of a different heart, simply bowing to its new and unwanted tyrant. Light after light were put out and the darkness began to thrive. The effects of the expansion of The Lying Rag were felt immediately, if I hadn’t been living through this situation then maybe I would have seen the irony within it, the world faced its destruction from the very thing that allowed us to live. At first it was the draught that killed, taking the most unfortunate of society, the poor and the desolate. After they tried to flee to more hospitable climates the powers that be enclosed them in. The world watched as the dehydration drowned the masses. And they were glad. I was glad. It wasn’t me. The food supply deteriorated dramatically and as it did ties were cut, continents remained enclosed amongst themselves, their limbs flailing wildly to resist amputation, all that came through to us was conjecture. I heard that countries in the east resorted to a brutal cull, a genocide of the lower classes, some even suggested that what remained of them became feasts for the bourgeois. At the time I heard this i dismissed it as some kind of twisted rumour, it just wasn’t feasible. Since then I have stared into the eyes of humanity and been greeted with its cold indifference, the heart of its personality, both outstanding and incomprehensible. To this day I don’t know whether these rumours were true, if there was some sort of god I’d pray it wasn’t. If there was ever a God he has surely burnt along with everything else. The wealthier countries of the west were the best off, this is where I began my story, I was one of the lucky ones, although thinking of the situation we were confronted with as some kind of luck seemed an affront, both to the dead and the living. There was, as horrible as it seems, a sense of entitlement that was felt amongst us, we deserved to survive, the chosen ones. We would need to wander the desert but we would come out above everybody else, faced with the spoils of the destruction of others. It was the fear that instigated the fall of civilisation, spreading rapidly like an infection throughout this once great land. Some said it was insanity that caused the atrocities, I don’t accept this. Given the circumstances the murder of others and oneself seemed the sanest approach. The ones who ignored the futility of the situation were the ones that were irreversibly changed, unrecognisable in what they, in what we, had become. In a world of everlasting light the darkness could be seen everywhere.
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if their are grammar errors then fuck you
