The Artist (VII)

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Guilty? Sometimes he does feel guilty for any random reason. It’s not for killing the beautiful C because he killed her to save her from the world’s problems. Whereas he felt bad towards others for not saving them, and for their misunderstanding of his mission.

Today, an idea crossed his mind. “Maybe the world is in turmoil because of me?” he said to himself; “maybe the world will start laughing again if I disappear?” He knew where this idea came from. Heroes have short lives; normal people live long. He was told that he was not like everyone else and he is aware that there is something special in him. He took some pills, for today is a big day, he will have his trip.

Today, the sun was shy and the sky was grey. He was trying to finish his painting of the landscape but everyday he must change colors; the weather is changing. He is tired of the weather and of his blurry vision. There is stillness outside: no birds singing, no people walking. Somehow, he feels lonely and trapped in his own body. Loathing the body for being heavy and disgusting, the soul has to free itself from it. That’s the big trip, the astral trip. As he was falling asleep, he saw himself from above, a laying body on the bed, a stupid heavy body. Now, at last, he can roam around freely.

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