It's a Wonderful Death

Alex Knatt had come to think that the concussive force that had cut short his life had somehow unlocked a greater consciousness, that somehow he had discovered a link to his own death, or rather to the place of death.

The happiness that his death had brought him couldn't keep him occupied all day and that's when the depression would set in. He often blamed his state of mind on his living situation. This annoyed him so deeply he refused to fully acknowledge how bad it was. It would pop up though in little tics and sudden furtive gestures that seemed to come out of no where but were always related back to his living situation.

Alex Knatt was thirty-years old, unemployed and living alone with his mother in a small, dingy and unexciting apartment. The truth was that his malaise ran even deeper than that, because although he hated living with his mother he really didn't even want to move out or live anywhere else, so he hated himself all the more and in a way that satisfied him.

But in reality, he had it pretty good. For the most part, his mother left him to his own devices. There was a cost of course to Alex, there always is. Over the years they had developed an unwritten and unspoken arrangement. It had never been acknowledged nor directly referred to, but it was always in operation and ever understood by the participants.

It was a tacit arrangement, a loose affiliation of codes that had developed over the years though battles of silence and innuendo. Alex's mother could never nag him about getting a job or doing something productive with his life. In addition, she would casually leave him some spending money on occasion and never mention it.

For Alex's part he had to endure the holidays with his mother's family, he had to eat dinner with her and had to watch her favorite television shows and of course feign interest in these topics. Strangely however the most pivotal of the caveats was that Alex could never divulge what he really felt about this world and his life. His young days of flying off the handle to his mother about how truly shitty this world was, were over. He had to keep that shit in.

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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)