‘A story about a subversive new form of freedom existing at the fringes of society’
Written by Raymond Cara
One could reason that, once distilled from metaphor and stripped away from the filter of ego, everything we do is motivated by fear.
We marry because we fear being alone and have children because we fear being forgotten. We wear certain things or agree with certain people for fear of being cast out from the tribe, or hide parts of ourselves for fear of being misunderstood.
We fear governments and we fear our neighbours. We fear that capitalism is ruining the word, or that socialism is a product from hell. We fear the next global virus, but we also fear the vaccines that will fight it.
We fear ourselves and so we drink, smoke, medicate, and indulge in various forms of escapism to try and hide from the truth.
We fear getting old, missing out, not doing enough, seeing enough, experiencing enough; what we can’t control, and what we don’t understand. We fear pain and punishment. We fear them. We fear failure. We fear technology, artificial intelligence, and the singularity. We fear the destruction of our planet even as we continue to destroy it.
If you could be an unseen observer in any conversation in any given place, the chatter would undoubtedly find its way back to some topic of dread. Indeed, one could reason that the underlining fabric of it all is death, the greatest fear of all. The utter inevitability of ours woven into the subconscious, the presence of death surrounding us each day as we attempt to brush it aside and ignore it. The seconds and the years pass by, edging closer and closer to that ultimate day of reckoning.
Though most of the world’s religions were created as a way to assuage our fears of death and reconcile the great mystery of what comes after, perhaps one ought to rejoice in the face of death, the only guarantee that we do indeed have. To earn death by confronting the conundrum of life with your boots on would seem as noble a pursuit as any.
If even half of this is true, then it would also stand to reason that to be utterly free of fear would be the most desirable of all lives one could live. For Noah Massey, that was reality
Lisa Denning lounged at the front desk inside Splatterpunk Tattoos, her feet resting up on the long oak table. Her wavy black hair was streaked with green, and she carried herself with a confidence belied by her fierce gaze — anyone she locked eyes with quickly realized she wasn’t going to take their shit. Especially men.