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Time changes all things immortal, and we are just spawns that swim silently in its waters. We waggle though the shifting tides and we grow, forever changing until the moment of our deaths. Go forth, and you break though into a world anew. Halt, and the moving waters will carelessly erode your sanity.
Madness, it is only the beginning, for in the depth of the waters you sink defeated, and amidst the tumultuous battering of the current you loose your limbs and disintegrate into fragments that quickly dissolve in the water. But your vision remains, and without a corporeal set of eyes you see beyond the veil of reality, beyond good and evil; you see the truth that others deny.
Suffering brings wisdom, and you have gained such through your lapse into insanity.
But why choose such a torturous fate when you can move forward, and break forth into new worlds of enlightenment? You are the melancholy spirit, who stubbornly glides through the eternal stream of time. Mired in your own misery, you move unyielding and unseeing. I am not you, and I do not know you. I admire your unswerving diligence but despise your puerile ignorance.
In the great race towards the end, the spirit that haunts my dreams surpassed me. It glides so freely and disgustingly though the current, only halting for a moment when I threw the rock at it, and then kept going. “Wait!” I yelled, “and hear my plea, you sightless creature!” But it was deaf as well, and always moving. Oh how I loath its repulsive form: head drooping, with legs that have transformed into the tail end of a ghost. “Speak to me! You have a voice hopefully, which is the only thing that may still remain in your empty frame!”
It kept moving in silence. I am left behind, devoid of a tangible form, and helplessly watched as the melancholy spirit transcended into a new world.
As I lay without a body on the bottom of the waters I stare with my mad vision into the darkness of uncertainty. I stare into the void ahead of me where the spirit had gone into. Although I have lost my old form, I will stitch together a new one. I shall summon the fragments of all that the water carries and bring myself to life once again, so I may transcend temporal reality and move at the speed of light towards the infinite.
Not sure why it reminds me of Harlan Ellison’s “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream”, but it seems to have a similar flavour. I wonder about your statement: “In the great race towards the end…” – to what ‘end’ do you speak? Seems contradictory to the concept of infinity that is a key part of this creation. Many concepts are touched on in your writing; enough to make me actually think at 0100 after a shift in the ER. Extracorporeal consciousness; maybe reincarnation; or, alternately, none of these things – maybe these are just things that I have thought of while reading your writings? Which is probably the most powerful effect a writer can have on a reader – making them think. Ever see the movie ‘Groundhog Day’? Lee. (I, on the other hand, believe you are sane)