I See Dead Future

It's almost every night now when I have naught to distract myself with (that is, lights out and attempting to sleep) that I see what lies in store for me.

A pitch-black void. Nothingness.

And I don't mean I'm going to have a dreamless sleep. It's my future as far as I know it.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.

No, I'm still afraid, dammit. I know what's waiting out there! And I dare not take the next step that leads to void.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

But the void is obliteration - my mind and my soul nevertheless. I'll be a walking husk after the void. I will be the void. Le raison d'être moi? Rien.

I will face my fear. I will let it pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

I am not just the inner eye. I'm the subconscious. The darkness behind the eyes. Not head nor heart, but akin to both. The head has been misinterpreting data from the senses, while the heart has been in denial. Both collar and leash. Most of the time suppressed by both, until the quietus when I am heard.

I dare not face my fear. For, so far as I can see, facing this fear means facing this future. I cannot see any others. I can trace its path all right, and to what end? Just to show me its origin, my fear for what it is, a rational argument to make it harmless? I can see back to how this happened and yet helpless to change it even if I could.

When the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

And who will I be? There will be nothing.

I'm not a superhuman, not Mentat nor Bene Gesserit, able to detach from emotion. How to take data and not bias them to my comprehension? How to take each moment that has been for introspection when I have short-term memory? But being my own observer I cannot fool myself on this. The conscious bit only chooses not to accept it and pushes it away, hoping that it would come to a point in time where the future outcome would change. Rejecting all data that would support this outcome. Deceiving myself all the while.

Knowing the cause, knowing the errors, still not accepting, still repeating the mistakes? I am stupid, that is all. All the more knowing that the longer we let this wound fester, the worse the result. But we're afraid to lance the boil in the first place, afraid of breaking it.

Who says I do not know how to be scared?