; lyht leaves the eyes—expelled by a relentless laesr of poignant realisation that reality is but absurdism x impossibility.

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

drowning in the styx

your only other option is black. darkness. in darkness, there's the pinch of fear. the premature leaping of the heart when you take a step, inhale sharp, expect to fall into a pit with hellfire eclipsed at the very bottom, a thousand years of a fall down. but you don't.

you take another step. your heart electrified, jumping erratically, so afraid. just one foot in front of the other. another step. another step. the ground crunches under your feet, shifting under your soles like rice in a rice bin. traction is hard, but you keep taking that next step. that's the darkness.

so this is gray, and every sound you hear is the banal hum of your existence, just you, not your body. this is where you subsist. you continue in nothingness, floating endlessly in a non-dimensional world, looking for something. anything, while you feel nothing. hear nothing. see nothing. your control slips to zero. your mind stalls. and when you're teetering off the edge, something brings you back. your existence brings you back to nothing.
my interpretation of hell vs limbo. wouldn't you rather be in hell with me?

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