Ascention
We speak in different languages, worship different gods, and we dance to the Aurora. We survive for aeons, watching the thoughts fly past us in a mockery of what's real.
Today I was riding my bike back to my house, my headphones echoing strange music into my ears, and the world began to shift. It blurred and spun, as if the the ground, not the sky, was the limit, and I wove my way through blurs of red and orange and palest blue, my music beating out resounding chants, a pulsing electronic beat in my ears. Things spun faster and faster and I began to fall, watching the road slowly rotate to face the ground, and I landed in spiky groundcover. I lay there for a few moments, watching everything spin around me, then I got up and continued to ride.
I live alone now, walking through my house with no soul to distract me, and I talk to the air. I go running sometimes, and other times I sit and stare at a point about 3 feet from my face. I feel as though something's breaking inside me, something that's making the whole world stop working. I don't think I've gotten enough sleep yet I've slept more than I have in ages. I don't taste anything much anymore. Maybe it's the weather, but nothing smells right.
I want somebody to hold me, to save me, to tell me I'm not real, that I'm only dreaming. Maybe everything will return to where it was, when a foggy morning promised rain, when I could yell and be heard, when I could breathe.
Maybe.
Today I was riding my bike back to my house, my headphones echoing strange music into my ears, and the world began to shift. It blurred and spun, as if the the ground, not the sky, was the limit, and I wove my way through blurs of red and orange and palest blue, my music beating out resounding chants, a pulsing electronic beat in my ears. Things spun faster and faster and I began to fall, watching the road slowly rotate to face the ground, and I landed in spiky groundcover. I lay there for a few moments, watching everything spin around me, then I got up and continued to ride.
I live alone now, walking through my house with no soul to distract me, and I talk to the air. I go running sometimes, and other times I sit and stare at a point about 3 feet from my face. I feel as though something's breaking inside me, something that's making the whole world stop working. I don't think I've gotten enough sleep yet I've slept more than I have in ages. I don't taste anything much anymore. Maybe it's the weather, but nothing smells right.
I want somebody to hold me, to save me, to tell me I'm not real, that I'm only dreaming. Maybe everything will return to where it was, when a foggy morning promised rain, when I could yell and be heard, when I could breathe.
Maybe.
posted by Aermethys at 7:25 PM
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