With a blank stare, the emotionless Devin slips through the revolving doors and enters the bustling mall, also full of alarmingly mundane and monotonous shoppers. Everyone around him seems to be dragging their feet, including him, as if it was 8am Monday morning. This is just how people were - most of the time. As Devin advanced towards the E-motion store, he walked by some rolling on the floor in laughter. He couldn’t wait to be just like him. Or would he prefer something more somber? Or maybe a relaxed elated? The choice was his. He walked by more sluggish shoppers until he stopped and stared at a woman weeping. Just bawling her eyes out. Why would anyone pick that one he thought - he went up to the lady and asked her if everything was okay. She bawled back, “yes of course its just a T break”. Then it hit him, maybe the elation pills would work better if he took a depressive pill just as this woman had done. Maybe the excitement pills would hit 10x harder if he took 10 depression pills? Only one way to find out he thought - the pills had a high variation from person to person. One’s emotional reaction to a pill was completely dependent and driven by their prior emotional states. He entered the E-motion store, grabbed a 10 pack of bag of dark blue pills and a 10 pack of bright yellow ones. He self-checked out and signed the waiver they always make you sign before you walk out of the store. He pushed his way past the depressed folk, barely excited for what was to come - but he was motivated. He parked himself on a bench outside of the mall. He ripped open the entire depressive pill cartridge, and popped them in his mouth one by one. He felt his heart sink with every pill. Every pill brought him a new depth of sorrow - the first pill had the effects of seeing a puppy accidentally kicked, the next one him getting fired, the next had him in botched surgery, the next the death of a family member. And so on. Through the process he had one thought - It’ll all be worth it when I pop an elation pill. He preserved through the 8th pill - his face red from crying since pill 5. He looked up onto the busy street and dove right infront of a van travelling 70 kph, and he died - with 2 blue pills and 10 yellow pills in his pocket.

Walking through the forest, misty like a mirror post shower Thick fog lay the ground, cannot see even a flower A gaping darkness radiates eastward, I walk towards it, just as a beast would The cave is deep, somehow obvious from its exterior I slowly enter its jaws, clenching my posterior Uneven ground grasping for a twisted ankle, Sharp jagged rocks looking for hands to mangle, The cool temperature saving me from being impaled By shark tooth like icicles flying through the air Echos louder than the footsteps is all you can hear Drawn deeper and deeper and feel limitless fear Well expired rotten flesh, but keep walking further and you’ll see fresh Meat and bones now coating the interior like a flegmy throat, this must be the devil and his goat I cannot stop advancing to my obvious death, somehow still feeling fear although I know I’ve been best I see the devil, so powerful and wise, His decrepit lair to him is just fine, Walk near this cave and you’ll see why you cant stop walking towards your own demise