The menacing figure calmly sat on the precipice of the Bolivian cliff brandishing a fauchard in both hands as it watched me with apprehension. It was dark but I could see from this great distance that its dark cloak fluttered eerily with the wind and a tingle of excitement crept up my spine. Always from a distance it has watched, always on the run and never daring to slink close to claim my rightfully overdue vessel, never daring to coerce me to my timely demise because I was in a state far worse than death, a perpetual state of abysmal hopelessness.
For as long as I can remember, I have always sensed it stalking me but I now have thrown caution to the wind. The hunter has become the hunted for the die has been cast and I now give chase therein reversing our roles. I now welcome it with open arms for if I was to die now, I will die relieved. I wouldn’t show resentment to Yahuwah but rather shower him with thankful ululation for I have now learnt that “The greatest gift he gave man was death, hence eternal rest”.
To no avail, I once more denounce my undeserved longevity in the hopes that my misplaced purpose and misguided motivations would be forgiven so that eternal rest will be granted to me. Yahuwah knows it was all I desired as I hopelessly await the darkness to take me into that silent, timeless and peaceful slumber for all eternity.
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Its daylight now and I am disappointed to have yet witnessed another morn. I barely noticed the passage of the night because the comfortable pleasures the nights offered mankind have long been denied of me centuries ago. I lay down cerebrating, oblivious to the ocean waves insistently crashing into my body in protest, oblivious to the early morning sun rays that plummeted down on my pale form and has now illuminated my bloodless, soulless and abominable vessel. I was oblivious to it all as I thought that even though I had willingly relinquished my privilege to pass to yonder, no one had the temerity to take that from me and because of that I have been on its trail for the last six score of years, never catching but never too far from my mark either, talk of false hope.
Painstakingly watching the peaceful passage of the human soul to yonder all these centuries has philosophically opened my mind to the similarities between humans and the falling stars. A star is one of the several million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless Milky Way forever. So are the humans and their existence. That microsecond before the life finally sips out of their earthly vessel, before the light dims out of their eyes forever never to shine is priceless. That precious moment is so blissful and I am so dismayed that man still in their naivety, fear death when it should be embraced as a gift.
No truer words had been proposed since it was stated that “Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark, and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other”. I am inclined to agree for men who fear death are weak and mankind is the epitome of weakness, the same weakness that was the instigator of my damnation on earth.
I would cherish the acceptance and passage into Hades if only I could, for a lifetime of torment in Hades is but paradise in comparison to the misery of eternity on earth. The torture of outliving loved ones time after time was heart wrenching, the horror of witnessing the suffering of mankind was inconceivable, the shame of witnessing the sheer animus they felt for one another was incomprehensible and the consuming feeling of loneliness that vacuumed sucked me into an abysmal anguish were too unbearable for me to eagerly continue my benign yet malignant existence.
Yes I said I’d cherish a chance to dwell in Hades as opposed to a passage through St Peter‘s Gate because experience has made a realist off me. Experience has shown me that an optimist goes to his grave sad and unfulfilled, a pessimist expects everything to go wrong and wrong it must eventually all go, similar to what Murphy’s Law state, while a realist knows and manages his limitations and therefore lives a life of satisfaction and contentment. I am realistic in my expectations for I have crossed the line of no retrieve by vilely bargaining with my soul for a curse disguised as the ultimate gift, immortality.
It is said that “All architects want to live beyond their death”. The same could be said for me for I was a very talented artist, a painter from a background of affluence who revelled and adored the beauties of life. The world had been so beautiful and filled with happiness, and for those that had a little gloom in theirs, my beautiful artworks brought the light into their life even if it was just for a moment.
I believed I had so much to give to the world and vice versa, I believed I was too good for the world to lose and the world was too good for me to walk away from so I embarked on an obsessive hunt for the Chalice of youthfulness. It was an old myth that I had strong convictions in even if there weren’t concrete documentations or a shred of evidence to back up my belief and for decades I searched for something that was never. My search took me to the far and wide regions of the world. It took me to the most unsavory of places, it took me from the serene and swampy Tibetan foliage to the treacherous mountains of Eastern Europe and then finally to the dense and dangerous African jungle.
My energy had already begun to falter, my body had begun to lose its vigour and just as I was beginning to lose conviction, I found what I sought. I found it not in the Chalice of youthfulness but in the most ironic and unlikely of sources, a remote hamlet in primitive Africa where most were aged or preparing to depart for yonder.
What the shaman said to me after he heard my request was this; “Sleep is the close kin of death and they go forth together. If you want to conquer one, be prepared to conquer both”. And in a final bid to discourage me when I still hadn’t rescinded from my decision, he said, “The dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong as well as useless to resist because when you have succeeded in resisting there is no reprieve”.
The shaman’s proclamations still haunts my every action till this day and on windy nights I sometimes hear his rancorous laughter he had aimed at my departing figure after we had concluded our heinous business centuries ago. On those nights I weep tearlessly for the pleasures of life that I had so craved for have now lost all its allure. I have seen on and on the evils of man and I have learnt that freedom is not free. For to experience peace on earth, you must fight for it again and again, hence war, hence pestilence and destruction. It’s a cycle and there is a balance to be kept by Yahuwah. I have seen too much pain and suffering to make a man senile and I have seen way too much wickedness and hatred that I got disillusioned with life, dispondent and attempted expiring my existence, but shockingly to no avail.
The shaman’s proclamations still haunts my every action till this day and on windy nights I sometimes hear his rancorous laughter he had aimed at my departing figure after we had concluded our heinous business centuries ago. On those nights I weep tearlessly for the pleasures of life that I had so craved for have now lost all its allure. I have seen on and on the evils of man and I have learnt that freedom is not free. For to experience peace on earth, you must fight for it again and again, hence war, hence pestilence and destruction. It’s a cycle and there is a balance to be kept by Yahuwah. I have seen too much pain and suffering to make a man senile and I have seen way too much wickedness and hatred that I got disillusioned with life, dispondent and attempted expiring my existence, but shockingly to no avail.
Cold fingers of terror crept up my spine when it finally dawned on me that the existence I assumed was mine were no longer mine to do as I pleased. A prize had been paid and a heavy melancholic feeling consumed me. Shortly after my failed attempts at self immolation I had my first encounter with a fellow sempiternal, a duchess of terror, a child of the night, a blood sucker. I had been overwhelmed with joy and lucky because I had finally met a kindred soul. She was feral yet exotic and very seductive. She had long dark hair, a great curve to die for, blood red lips like the eastern sunset and a pale skin that shone under the moonlight. But my joy was but brief because a look of pity and disdain mirrored all over her features after I proposed a union. It was like shrapnels of metals had pierced the spot where my heart should have been seated when she bluntly told me we were nothing alike and could never be before she turned around and vanished never to be seen again.
I felt alone and forsaken in this evil world where two terrifying forces continually govern and influence mankinds actions simultaneously and there were times I questioned some of Yahuwah’s supposed actions. I asked questions like; when was Lucifer banished from heaven, before or after creation? Why did he give “Lucifer” free reign over us on earth after he had first hand experienced his corruption in heaven? Why make mankind suffer so much for naught? Why has he forseen all these sufferings and still allow it happen? Was he conceding that he made a mistake when he first wiped out his creations? Were we really created in his own image? If we were, are our weaknesses a reflection of his? Why place man, the apple tree and “Lucifer” in one garden if he sees it all? By giving “Lucifer” free reign on earth, has he marked him as his equal or are they equals? Is man really above the angels? Why didn’t he forsee Lucifer‘s betrayal in heaven? Why was a great battle fought before Lucifer and his minions could be ejected from heaven when all he needed to do was snap his fingers and all would have been over? If man was given freewill, will his soul be damned for asking these same questions I have asked? All these and many more were the questions that kept swirlling around my head but no answers came forth. One could say that these are the ramblings of a lost soul. Very true, they are ramblings of a lost soul but does it discredit my logical and valid “School of thoughts”? I think not.
In all these years of giving chase, I still haven’t gotten a valid explanation for those questions and I haven’t let it deter me from my goal. There is a saying in the Islam which goes thus “If the mountain would not come to Mohammed, Mohammed would go to it”. Since it has refused to come to me, I have adjusted myself to my predicaments and gone forth in search for it because a man with a cause has something to live for. Its has now been my cause for the last six score years, its what keeps me going and it is what has given me hope in this hopeless world.
My name is Alvise Bresscia and my last words in this my unearthly testament is this, “Immortality on earth is far worse than an eternal abode in Hades and it is the greatest punishment no man deserves”.
My Dark School Of Thoughts 
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