The images seduced him, lulling him into a soft, comforting complacency. The images were far too real to him. All too real to go beyond, and all too real to ignore. His mind soon was overwhelmed by simplicity.
"I will never learn," he confessed. He wouldn't. Days passed into months into years while his stasis remained mired in self-delusion. Delayed action was his modus operandi. He waited and waited for the perfect moment, until even the occasion, the opportunity, came and went. When he wanted to go, to get out of illusion and encounter someone, something, he was unable to. Paralysis became his condition. Passion was snuffed out. Regret was all that remained.
Regret, his fated foe, came to being at the very beginning of the illusion. He was lost once he had succumbed. Self-flagellation and retroactive rationality obscured his ability and will. With no will to act, to become, or to change, he lost the will to live. He remained as he was until he was gone.
"I will never learn," he confessed. He wouldn't. Days passed into months into years while his stasis remained mired in self-delusion. Delayed action was his modus operandi. He waited and waited for the perfect moment, until even the occasion, the opportunity, came and went. When he wanted to go, to get out of illusion and encounter someone, something, he was unable to. Paralysis became his condition. Passion was snuffed out. Regret was all that remained.
Regret, his fated foe, came to being at the very beginning of the illusion. He was lost once he had succumbed. Self-flagellation and retroactive rationality obscured his ability and will. With no will to act, to become, or to change, he lost the will to live. He remained as he was until he was gone.
