Second chance or

eternal nothingness?

Stand in a hall and bear your heart

become devoured?

Perpetual bliss

or a fall into the pits?

Fall in battle

do you dine with vikings?

If the waves send you asunder

does the water take you?

Live in peace

beneath the ground?

Soaring above the clouds

or burning until the end of time?

Reincarnate

death or rebirth?

Different concepts

same place?

Ancient legends

truth or lies?

Fade to black

everything ends?

Or is it just

yet another stage?

Is it the end,

or a new beginning?

“You know, Ash. Ever since I've known you, you've always been so interested in music. Why?” She asked curiously. “It's almost like you're obsessed with it.”

Ash looked like he found her question to be funny. “You're asking a musician why they're so obsessed with music?”

Aria rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, her face flushing ever so slightly. “Er, yeah. I guess I am.”

The musician smiled at his girlfriend. “It's only natural for you to be curious, my love. You know how you always talk about how the world would be nothing without art?”

“Of course I remember!” She exclaimed passionately before she began rambling, “After all, art is everywhere. From paintings, to drawings, the clothes we wear, the buildings and architecture, even nature itself. The world would be nothing without art.”

Ash's grin only grew. “I couldn't agree with you more on that sentiment, love. But...” He took a brief pause before continuing. “Haven't you noticed how you've mostly been referring to the design aspect of art?”

Her ocean blue eyes were full of confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, what about things like writing?” Ash questioned. “I know how you're always geeking out over your favorite book series. Could you imagine a world without books and literature?”

Aria's eyes widened in surprise and looked heavily taken back by the mere thought. “Of course not! Whenever I'm not painting or drawing, I practically live in the local Library. I'm even good friends with one of the librarians there now.”

The musician's expression was one of calm and patience. “Are you beginning to understand now?”

After a few seconds, the artist nodded her head. “I think so. Are you trying to tell me that writing is a form of art as well?”

He returned the nod. “That I am. Not all art necessarily has to be visual in nature. Writing could be considered an art because just like when one paints a picture or creates a drawing, it's fueled purely by our own imaginations. With nothing more than some words over several pieces of paper, a writer can take us to worlds unseen, allow us to see through another person's eyes as if they were our own, make us cry and weep whenever a fictional character dies, and establish whatever setting they wish, and they are the ones who set the rules. Through their words, they get us to visualize and live through an entirely different world than our own.”

Aria's expression gradually turned to one of understanding. “You know Ash, you're right. I've never actually really thought of it that way. I've always just seen art to be something visual in nature, something that could only be seen with our eyes.” She stopped for a moment, before looking confused again. “I know what you were trying to say with the whole writing thing, but what does that have to do with music?”

Ash shook his head with the same amusement from earlier. “Aria, my love, you can be really air-headed at times. What I just said was an example. I brought it up because the art of music and writing aren't so different in nature.”

Upon seeing his girlfriend's continued confused expression, he began to clarify. “Things like painting and drawing are perceived through sight. Writing is perceived through your head as the words get you to visualize. And music is perceived through your ears. But each of them has something in common: they are all fueled by imagination.”

As he continued talking, Aria's perplexed expression was eventually replaced with one of interest and curiosity. “You asked why I'm so interested and obsessed with music. And the answer to that is the same as yours. It's because it's my art. My craft. Just like you, I want to change the world. But not through paintings and drawings, but rather from music and song.”

“Music is everywhere. Whenever you go out to a diner or out at a store, there will almost always be some song playing through the speakers. Not just that, but for something to be considered music, it doesn't always have to be a song. I've always considered the chirping of the birds in the morning to be rather musical, or the rhythmic purr of a cat. Things like that have always spoken to me. We're all artists, in our own way. The world would be a completely different, and much bleaker place, if it weren't for the efforts for people like us.” He finished with a small smile. “So, that's why.”

“You're dropping a bunch of bombshells on me today, you know.” She said teasingly. “But again, you're right. I'm surprised I never looked it that way before. No matter how hard I try, I can't actually imagine a world without writing or music. I guess I just began to take it for granted.” She finished shamefully.

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it's alright. It's easy to take things like that for granted. I don't think a lot of us really think about stuff like that anyways. But at least you know now.” He gave her a small kiss.

They locked lips with each other for what seemed to be an indeterminable amount of time, before Aria finally pulled away. Blushing, and with a slightly embarrassed tone, she asked, “Hey, um, Ash?”

He looked at her attentively, giving her a reassuring look. “It's okay, love. Go ahead and ask.”

Feeling more confident, Aria finally spit it out. “Do you think I could watch you play?” She asked hopefully.

He gave a hearty chuckle at that. “Of course. I would love to.” He walked over to the other side of his room, and retrieved the guitar out of his case. Then, he sat back down next to his girlfriend, and started to strum the guitar, and began to sing, closing his eyes in concentration and losing himself to the rhythm. “In this silence, I began to realize...”

Trust.

Trust is a strange thing. Hard to earn, easy to break. The same holds true for faith.

I've been betrayed, over and over. Stabbed in the back more times than I can count. After that, I began to lose faith. I began to lose trust.

I spiraled into hopelessness and nihilism. I thought I was simply destined to be alone. That trust and faith were nothing more than mere illusions. Until I met her. The sister I never knew I had.

We're not sisters in blood, but we are in spirit. And even though I kept falling, and falling, into the darkness, she would always pull me back up from the pit I found myself into.

And whenever I found myself unable to find the light...

She would be my flashlight.

Suicide.

The act of taking one's own life.

Why would anyone wish to terminate their own life with such willingness? That's what most people wonder when they hear that word. Then they make their own ignorant assumptions on what suicide is. Suicide is when someone jumps in front of a train, deliberately trying to get hit. Suicide is when somebody jumps off a bridge. Suicide is when you put a gun to your head and pull the trigger without hesitation.

But for many, it's a battle. They have to resist the urge to jump in front of that car and get hit. Try to redirect their thoughts when they wonder what would happen if they suddenly decided to jump off that bridge. Resist the urge to pull the trigger and end it all when nothing is going your way or when the void is too painful to bear.

It's not always just a planned, premeditated decision. For many, it's a temptation. And I know that sometimes, when things look their darkest...

I find myself having to give my all just to not give in.