Final straw

I was just wondering yesterday, how does it truly feel like to be standing in between the last few moments of deciding to give up, and the actual absolute moment of giving up.

You know… the final brittle fragile moments of the climatic conflict between the Head and the Heart; the last straw to send your entire system into a state of  paralysis before it irrevocably announces “You know what? I’m thoroughly done with this Shit. This is it. I’m gone.”

How does it genuinely feel like? The second before, the second itself, and the second after? Is there a trough of emotions present within the individual? Are there feelings of extremities – once trapped and now finally liberated? Or are they just null feelings; Numbness, for this was just the result of a built up of small multiple fragmented pieces, and nothing more than making a decision was all that was needed to put the entire thing to an end.

And from there, how do you acknowledge the change, absorb it into your already disheveled life, and stick with this resolution for the rest of your earthly existence? Hmm….

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