A kaleidoscope of every object I’ve ever seen from every previous moment leading up to this one
currents circles around my vision like a cyclone.
downwards downward down down
The fall is blanketed by shrubbery that cushions the impact before crumbling into ash. My hands instinctively rub my backside to massage the pained area but the impact did not hurt. Around me, a barren badland.
The Sky is a metallic gray fading into a corroded orange
shrouded in thick exhaust fume masquerading as clouds.
Unforgiving jagged gravel plunges into my bare feet
(feet protected by soles of shoes throughout their existence are not cut out for unpaved terrain)
Clemency swells as each moment recognized as a human second passes.
Beads of sweat run down the nape of my neck and my shirt feels as if it were fusing with my skin in osmosis
it takes a tremendous amount of effort to pull it over my head and let it fall behind me.
No longer in my hometown
no longer on any charted land
no vegetation of any kind in sight, not even cacti.
No monuments, nothing recognizable.
Only dust, rocks, ash. The occasional rise of flat land into a mole hill.
If I had a GPS to triangulate my position it would give up and display a giant ?
Gravity heavy. The weight of Jupiter pressing down upon on my pores squeezing out every drop of moisture.
Walking in a direction with no name. Energy weakened.
On my hands and knees, crawling, battling against the dry ashy landscape.
Up a hill that brings me closer to The Sky
I reach up and run my hands through the tar black clouds that feel of grit and soot, leaving stains between the webbing of my fingers. I wipe my hand against a smooth rock and a dark smear remains lingering over the life lines on my palm.
Destination Nowhere. Outcome Uncertain. Point Remains To Be Seen.
Whizzing sounds of distant traffic, electrical currents guided through mechanical parts well oiled with crimson,
words from The Void screaming throughout; from buoyant lead, iron fists, and crinkled greenery. Blocking paths long since forgotten and ushering forth towards roads with predictable outcomes.
Say “No Thank You”
Allow the unknown to fill every orifice of your lungs.
Closed eyes see no darkness.
There is a wormhole filled with every color on the known spectrum and fifty-thousand shades that the oxford dictionary has no definition of and human eyes have trouble accepting.
Nebulae and planetary bodies with orbiting suspensions of ice racing by in a blur.
Heat waves of passing stars tickle the bloodstream and flutter through veins turning the crimson into water and then into wine.
Punch-drunk fairies dizzily prancing through cerebral ruins, upchucking on the dulled grey matter,
pompous verbal units as stark and stale as century old fossilized excrement; land solid and explode in cataclysmic screams of primal rage seconds after impact.
All feelings of anguish and pain gone away.
In this Form, at this given moment, time increases increments that should be subject to extreme scrutiny for in this moment,
no seconds pass and no clocks tick and no feet march en tandem with the beat of any kind of drum sheathed with any kind of skin.
The maximum of charge allowed in in these parts as the number does not increase as the wormhole continues
though it is uncertain if it is suspended in a time lapse, or if that is indeed what is happening at all.
Any increasing number would be the only proof that time is continuing to move along as the astral stuff is, zooming by in the peripheral,
but the astral stuff moves, the percentage does not.
The speed of travel begins to slow and every cell in my body freezes like the milliseconds before a suspension-drop roller coaster’s declension
and I feel the same weightlessness as everything stops on a dime.
There are only a few times in my life that I’ve prayed in earnest. Not counting prayers said before meals when I was instructed to bow my head and close my eyes. No, all I ever did was look around and wonder what was swimming around inside the other bowed heads.
As a child I would lie in bed at night and pray. Not that I was particularly religious, just raised into a sect of Christianity, as many are. I would pay attention. Less out of interest, more because there was nothing else to do. Hearing the pastor tell tall-tales of folks inconvenienced by God and praying for Him to take away the pain that He inflicted on them in the first place –
and He would.
I couldn’t help but wonder why my prayers were left to the wayside, if not ignored all together.
Not that I asked for much.
Only night time salutations to not wake up in the morning, for dreams to extend into an eternal slumber. Yet every morning, I’d wake up where I had left off.
And that’s how I eventually lost faith in religion.
But not God. Or the being, entity and/or state of consciousness that has been named God.
Not for the sake of my own comfort but
because it’s logical.
There’s no way that the human race is the pinnacle of Life, even if using everything else here on Earth as the standard, the basis for all things imaginable. There’s just no way!
Okay, perhaps there is a bit of comfort involved in this way of thinking.
Be that as it may, as I pray here now, I do not believe in God. I believe in Nothing.
Not a void of negative space, an empty nothing.
But something different entirely which has no form. Something that has existed long before there was ever a form or a concept for a living body was ever conceived. Try in earnest to reach such a plane of existence and external forces will make such a journey seem impossible.
But it can happen. Just bow your head…
when the realization that your justifications in defense
of your own existence is wasted oxygen flowing through deaf ears
you tend to not want to speak at all
sit in staid silence stained with imperfections
broadcasts on multiple networks play
turn the volume up
say nothing at all
props will speak instead