A Murderous Attempt Indeed

Thoughts are ever so difficult to control

The control he had over his body seemed gone. His athleticism seemed reduced to clumsiness.

The granularity of control over the incremental body movements was not fine enough. It was always too much or too little for the required accuracy - the accuracy that was aimed at.

The conclusions of the intended trajectories of the orb were Peninsular corners and hence most of the times, the effected physical adjustments were over-compensations both ways.

The estimate of the current body position acts as a feedback to the Central Nervous System to help it in estimating the forces and torques required to change the body configuration and position to the requisite one.

There are two estimates here - the current position and the requisite torque and forces. Maybe the final requisite position is also an estimate.

All estimates seemed to be going awry as blows were unintentionally struck on oneself, not too rarely.

The logical culmination of the intended body-movements was a collision with the yellow-green sphere.

The two projectiles sometimes missed each other and he was forced to wonder at the logic behind nature. Physics seemed to be such a bastard.

The arena - the part of the universe where he hoped to be able to control his own destiny at least to the extend where his failures would be due to his mistakes - seemed to mock at him for his greediness to be the master.

He felt like a puppet, hands and legs tied and controlled by a master puppeteer. No - it was not the physical limbs. The problems where in the mind.

The brain is never completely under one's control. There are levels of control that one can exert on it, one's controller.

Yes there are always two people in charge on one's thoughts and action. Oneself and the rest of it which is out of one's own control - an abstraction that is God or the Devil.

Today his level of control seemed pathetic, as he felt being pushed increasingly, in steps, out of the closed chamber that his neck ramified into, with each passing point.

There was no point in continuing this madness. Something needed to be done - something abrupt to wrench one out of the senselessness - the chaos, the unpredictable determinism.

The irritation of the bafflement was suddenly replaced by serenity, as his mind, in an attempt to perform its assigned function, interpreted it as ignorance. Yes, no further consideration was necessary. This was a moment for action.

He lifted what was in his hand to the highest possible point his body could let him.

No this would need no calculations. Brute force would do the trick.

He brought it down with all the violence in the world; the whole movement was over in one big jerk.

And before him, as if writhing in mortal pain lay that twisted piece of metal with disjointed strings mutilating its form.