Deeper

In the flat surface where your soul stands, there is an endless plane that goes forever. On it, there is no limit to the beauty, the awe and the continuous emotional glamour of disconnected joy, born from the same source as the impetuous surge of emotion that plants a childlike spontaneous laughter. As you look through it all, there's no sense of time, of ending, of what has been... for it goes forever hovering weightless on the most fragile fabric where every possible dream and reality lives. Such is the nature of the soul, unbound, free.

Within it lives the stateless nature of life, as it is meant to be, free of uniqueness, the unruly abhorrent mass that displaces the continuous bliss that is natural to being, creating a reference, a marker that abolishes every other thing, but itself. Acting as a deceiving glimpse of a door to a similar plane, just as complete and rich, it tricks your naive core into looking closer.

As you approach, yearning for a new found bliss, the surface below you, like a piece of cloth, curves under the pressure of your focus. You have come into contact with the single biggest act of self-destruction. As a result, the horizon fades into a concrete representation of what your new found marker allows you to imagine as countless dreams fade from existence.

With limited sight, and an unfillable longing for everything that stopped being, forgetting the senseless nature that seeded your previous world, you begin to violently look for doors, more markers that out of sheer luck may just be the door that returns to the place you came from. But there was never a door, there was no place you came from and there is no return.

Adrift, bound to a purposeless search that is as aimless as it is impossible, you build up a strange weight atop your very core. As it did before, it molds the surface under you, bringing you deeper and deeper as your search unfolds into a vicious cycle that is as endless as the flat world where you came into being. Such becomes your limited existence, driven by a randomly self-built prison assembled together as a way to escape itself, brick by brick.

This is the paradox. The description of a journey you call life.

But it is the wrong journey. Everything in it is wrong.

And if you keep walking it...

You'll grow colder...

And colder...

Slowly freezing,

You become...

Gelidis