A man who is still fighting might look crazy, desperate, shallow even. His unending battle with his very self a vain affair.
But what truly scares me is a man who's given up. Insanity's incarnate, too sickeningly free in his machinations.
What if one such figure ends up drving themselves to their utter limit, what if they end up so deep in the throes of despair that it becomes a part of them?
And what if at the end of it all, they ask for respite—for revenge.
Time, fate, and the very nature of life itself, it haunts us—yes, you and me. And it surely, ruins us.