In a timeless space: Reflections of a suicidal veteran

A couple of seconds to the end and it was apparently clear: His demons had gained tactical advantage and he was never going to make it out of there alive. All alone in his room, disillusioned and defeated, he stares hard at that glock as he drifts into a brief mental paradise, a place of pure peace and a space of no time. With a slight grin and a whole lot of tears, he is quite shocked at how the history of glory and triumph that trails him never prepared him for what ultimately turned out to be the final battle.

With the scars from battles fought, certificates from universities gone and awards from tournaments won, he had gained the respect and admiration of all apart from one ... the one whose respect can only be earned through a careful process of solemn reflection and unilateral humility ... The one who could not care less about your physical achievements ... The one whom he conveniently choose to ignore ... Blinded by the false system which glorifies nothings, he ascended to a rarefied atmosphere of "perfection" and "greatness".

Staring hard at that glock he can finally see: the falsehood, the failure and the illusion of a life well lived. A sad case of misplaced priorities and displaced aspirations. "i was once great ... or at least they thought i was" ... his last thoughts as a loud bang gives the final victory to his demons.