Floating on a Tidal Wave - Frerard One-Shots

What's Reality with all these Questions

EVERYTHING IN ITALICS IS CREDIT TO LEGION FX

Word count: 8085

Edited Revised Version: March 28th, 2021

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        Good Evening. . . we are here tonight to talk about violence- or maybe, human nature. A quote, a great philosopher once wrote, that in times of peace the warlike man attacks himself. This is the root of all our problems. And by this, I mean we. We are the root of all our problems. Our confusion, our anger, our fear of things we don't understand. Violence, in other words, is ignorance.

       'Figure your shit out, is what I'd say.' 

        There are two kinds of stories we tell our children, The first kind, Once upon a time, there was a fuzzy little rabbit, named  Frizzytop, who went on a quantum, fun adventure, only to face a big setback, which he overcame by perseverance and by being adorable.

 This kind of story teaches empathy, put yourself in Frizzytop's shoes in other words.

        The other kind. . .  'Oliver Anthony Bird, if you get too close to that ocean, you'll be sucked into the sea and drown!' 

This kind of story teaches them fear. And for the rest of their lives, these two stories compete.

Empathy and Fear.

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        I'd had enough, I was done. So tired of the constant routine I was accustomed to. I despised attending this god-awful school with the very people who ignored my existence on purpose for personal gain. I hated that I seemed like I was the only person who seemed like they didn't have life wrapped around their fingers, molded by intense apprehensive but ambitious planning to try and succeed in this dancing circus we call life. My mind consistently gets lost within seconds of alone time, and it pissed me off how easily I daydreamed about realities and questions that I could never get the answers to. I tend to rethink situations in irrational ways, life choices, real-world events, psychological reasonings behind the chaos, people's so-called delusions.

        I had heard a story once that will be permanently stuck in my mind. Xuang Ju, fell asleep one day and dreamed he was a butterfly, for hours he fluttered in the warm winter sun until he no longer remembered he was Xuang Ju, he awoke suddenly and he was Xuang Ju again, but in that moment he didn't know if he was Xuang Ju who dreamt he was a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming he was Xuang Ju. A delusion starts like any other idea, like an egg. Identical on the outside, perfectly formed. From the shell, you'd never know anything is wrong, it's what's inside that matters.

       Albert A had an idea, one day when he was walking, he stumbled. And for a moment, it seemed like his right leg didn't belong to him. This is how it begins, the leg was clearly Albert's, it was attached to his body and when he pricked it, he felt pain. But despite that, the idea grew. Such is the power of an idea. With every day that passed, Albert became more and more certain that it was not his leg, he decided that he didn't want it anymore . . . so he went to hardware store and successfully cut the leg off of his body.

        You see, an idea alone isn't enough, we have ideas all the time. Random thoughts, and theories. Most die before they can grow, For a delusion to thrive . . . Other more rational ideas must be rejected, destroyed. Only then can the delusion blossom, into full-blown psychosis.