the smile

Once Mao realised he was happy sisyphus, he drank his hemlock lightly and bid adieu to a world he had known for so long. He realised that in a free world, slavery was the only escape. And this known slavery was slowly driving others to believe that he was finally sane. Only he knew his weird freedom, a freedom that lay beyond interconnected causal-ness.

In darkness and to himself, he would often remember how the curious wolf in him had become entangled in the spiked non real sound wire, and was suffocating to death on the silence of reality. Bewildered and exhausted of thinking, he would slowly descend into dreams of incoherent reality, a reality where he turned his back to the world and just fucking smiled.