The ramblings of a ether fueled fool

            Death can be felt, it’s a pain of disconnecting from the physical self. Snapping out of reality to meet the something beyond. All this started with a guy, gun, and bullet in the door way. Synapse of lights extinguish, letting supernovas of color go haywire. Taking forms of meter long bubbles, engulfing the soul.

            No hate, rage, anger, fear, pity, or regret washed over the victim. A life of peace led to a death in pieces. The bubbles ate away the corporal, a suffering body no more. Later on the world would claim this as a tragedy but this moment, it was destiny.

            The annuals of history would weep, fans would morn, wife and son would go on. Few would understand the importance of his last moment, what happen in that split second after the last beat. Only in the book of Vinyl did it get noted, only the sect knew that in those supernovas of color a new age was meant to be born. Unfortunately, it never came to be, the world couldn’t handle peace. Now the bug that was destine for divinity only slumbers stirring for hope.