When The Rain Falls
Recoup
Join Date: 2004-04-25 Member: 28195Members
Join Date: 2004-04-25 Member: 28195Members
<div class="IPBDescription">Brief Look at Human Agressiveness</div> <b>When the Rain Falls</b>
Rush. The feeling of maddening adrenaline overtaking your senses and forcing you into overdrive are just enough to drive anyone to brink of excitement or insanity. The rush is a feeling of freedom, jumping from your body and letting your mind take all forms of control. Rush is, ultimately, freedom.
The rush for me began during war. The name, place, or time was insignificant for me. My only options were “kill the enemy, before he kills you”, and therefor, I followed my orders to the greatest of my extent. What I realized, later on during the course of the battles, was the sheer knowledge of what we were doing to each other. Succumbing to my nature was like a beast terrorizing my mind, saying to me “defend yourself by any means necessary.” I did.
It wasn’t until I had spilled blood in front of me that did I realize the human in front was just like me. The butt end of my rifle struck his face, his shoulders, and his head, and with a finalizing shot I had ended a human’s time in this lifetime. What mysteries had I chosen to kill another, I’m not certain. It wasn’t because I was told to, and it wasn’t because I was defending myself. Something told me to, and I’m not sure what it was. My first guess was my instincts.
The sight of another charging at me with intent to kill drove me into a “rush” and I then focused on killing him first. The feeling of switching was automatic, without second thought. Using the nearest weapon I could, the butt end of my rifle was the closest thing I would have been able to strike first with.
When he finally fell into the dirt, his blood soaking up the ground around him as his body gave way to imminent death finally succumbed to God’s welcoming sight, I paused and became mournful. What right did I, a soldier, have to kill another? A cause, a belief, a country, a hope, was at last only an ideal. A human being was that of a physical entity, one who had interacted with the world around and left his impact on its existence. What was my right, in this world, to end his time.
The feeling, I found, was that of love and hate. I felt both upon his demise, my love for this person just like me, and my hatred for his mind and its twisted infinities. The two morals clashed in my head and forced me to believe not what I had done with my hands, my weapon, or the thoughts of his death. Both thoughts brought the same result through me: death.
And so, as his last breath was drawn and sank away, so did I. I backed into the trench, laid my weapon to the ground, and sat in the watery mud. He will never be seen again, and to whose fault is that? My own.
With his time past, and mine just beginning, I realized that as a person of one feeling, one ability, and a mind’s purpose bent on taking back what I had done, I could fight no longer. I turned and fled the battle with my head lowered and my legs stretching forward into the darkness of human’s aggressive behavior. That is the end of my story of woe, which I hope more may learn from.
War is a necessary precaution when evil shows its twisted face, but realize, its necessity is needed not long.
Rush. The feeling of maddening adrenaline overtaking your senses and forcing you into overdrive are just enough to drive anyone to brink of excitement or insanity. The rush is a feeling of freedom, jumping from your body and letting your mind take all forms of control. Rush is, ultimately, freedom.
The rush for me began during war. The name, place, or time was insignificant for me. My only options were “kill the enemy, before he kills you”, and therefor, I followed my orders to the greatest of my extent. What I realized, later on during the course of the battles, was the sheer knowledge of what we were doing to each other. Succumbing to my nature was like a beast terrorizing my mind, saying to me “defend yourself by any means necessary.” I did.
It wasn’t until I had spilled blood in front of me that did I realize the human in front was just like me. The butt end of my rifle struck his face, his shoulders, and his head, and with a finalizing shot I had ended a human’s time in this lifetime. What mysteries had I chosen to kill another, I’m not certain. It wasn’t because I was told to, and it wasn’t because I was defending myself. Something told me to, and I’m not sure what it was. My first guess was my instincts.
The sight of another charging at me with intent to kill drove me into a “rush” and I then focused on killing him first. The feeling of switching was automatic, without second thought. Using the nearest weapon I could, the butt end of my rifle was the closest thing I would have been able to strike first with.
When he finally fell into the dirt, his blood soaking up the ground around him as his body gave way to imminent death finally succumbed to God’s welcoming sight, I paused and became mournful. What right did I, a soldier, have to kill another? A cause, a belief, a country, a hope, was at last only an ideal. A human being was that of a physical entity, one who had interacted with the world around and left his impact on its existence. What was my right, in this world, to end his time.
The feeling, I found, was that of love and hate. I felt both upon his demise, my love for this person just like me, and my hatred for his mind and its twisted infinities. The two morals clashed in my head and forced me to believe not what I had done with my hands, my weapon, or the thoughts of his death. Both thoughts brought the same result through me: death.
And so, as his last breath was drawn and sank away, so did I. I backed into the trench, laid my weapon to the ground, and sat in the watery mud. He will never be seen again, and to whose fault is that? My own.
With his time past, and mine just beginning, I realized that as a person of one feeling, one ability, and a mind’s purpose bent on taking back what I had done, I could fight no longer. I turned and fled the battle with my head lowered and my legs stretching forward into the darkness of human’s aggressive behavior. That is the end of my story of woe, which I hope more may learn from.
War is a necessary precaution when evil shows its twisted face, but realize, its necessity is needed not long.
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