(no subject)
I am the vigilant.
The dunes rolled over each other, like they were feeding on themselves, extending this desert into what seemed to be eternity. It was dark, but not night. There was a light coming from somewhere in the horizon, shielded by the dunes, casting a seeming shadow over everything.
The ripples in the sand were static, and even though the wind occasionally howled through gaps in the dunes, it seemed like a scene out of a still-life picture. The air was stagnant, but not stale, almost as if the wind itself was nothing more than my own imagination. The earth gave way beneath my feet, but I would not sink in. It all felt false, surreal, but there was a greater sensation, one of an impending reality
Every passing moment led me to believe that, in the blink of an eye, everything would be different, and I would be somewhere else, but no different. The scene would change, but the sensation would remain. It didn’t happen though, and I was still there, at the foot of what seemed to be a permanent twilight.
I was afraid to ascend to the top of the dune, afraid to see what lay beyond, but there was also a sense of urgency that beckoned me forward. A strange, inward panic seemed to eat away at my deepest self. My heart beat rampantly, but I was somehow able to maintain a calm head.
Yes, it was the past. There was no certain way to know, other than a strange sensation that it was a time long since past, like seeing a yellowed page of an album and associating the pictures with age according to decay. It felt old, seemed old, and my senses told me so.
Even then though, was it really from my perspective? I saw it all, but not from my own eyes. It was as though I were placed in the position of some lonely soul watching it all from a silent hill. Moving quietly as a phantasm, watching myself make these decisions, it was as though I was watching a macabre film, where I was the tragic figure.
I arose to the peak of the hill, and the wind stopped. All was silent was I looked into the distance. The desert was the world, and there was none else. I remember feeling absent and unsettled when the sun did not pierce my eyes. It was there, hovering in the sky, but it lacked the luster it should have given. While lit, it seemed like a flatly colored painting, a shade of grey somehow illuminating the world before me.
Something did stand out, however, something that I felt shouldn’t. In the distance, there was a small speck, nothing more than what seemed a single grain of sand in this massive desert. I felt drawn to it, and uneasy about how well it became known to me. Somehow I knew there was a settlement there, but no oasis.
I vividly remember asking myself, even if I wanted to get there, how I should go about it. The distance was so great, and I suddenly began to feel tired. My body ached and my head began to pound. I fell to one knee, gasping for breath, and asking myself why the sand was so cold.
I suddenly realized how cold it was…it was as though I had been blind to it before. This sun offered me no heat, but was rather more like a flashlight shining into an iceberg. I could not feel the wind, yet strangely hear it, asking myself why my hair was not flowing. Everything felt totally wrong at that moment.
I loathed feeling so weak and helpless, and fighting against a sudden nausea, I forced myself to my feet. After regaining my senses from dizziness, I felt a sudden dread descend upon my heart. My every nerve said run and hide, and my body coursed with tremors and chills as I found myself in that very place I had spied from what seemed to be miles away.
Now, much more than a lone speck in a sea of sand - no! An ocean of sand, rows of what appeared to be huts stood before me. They seemed to be symmetrically organized, and I felt they were properly placed, but I could not tell why. It was almost as if a chess piece from the board knew there was a battle plan, but could only see it when he was suspended above the battle field.
I was fascinated with that thought for a moment, and then cursed myself for having become distracted. Distracted? Did I have a purpose here? I felt that same sense of urgency, one that told me not to look back not to dare turn around, but I didn’t even know what was ahead of me.
Even that was becoming harder to discern. The sun derivative in the sky above me was now turning to a darker shade of grey, casting a more ominous shadow over the world of its vigil. Some how, however, directly in front of me was always as light as before, like a cone of radiance somehow provided for me.
I was uneasy now, about everything else. In the corner of my eye I could see shadows moving to and fro, or was it just my natural reaction? I could hear whispers behind me, unintelligible or maybe inaudible? It could have been the wind.
I ignored everything as if I was secure. Did I have a reason to? I wasn’t sure of anything at this point. Or was I? It was almost as if I was watching a different person, rather than myself. Or maybe it was me, but rather who understood what was going on. I had been separated from my own mind somehow.
I realized now that the huts were all in a state of disrepair and misuse. Tattered tarps flowed in this intangible wind, red markings of an unknown language littered their lengths. The wooden frames were desiccated and white, like bleached bones or dead bamboo, but still seemed strong somehow, or was it that in that manner they preserved their strength?
There was one that stood out, at the end of this…hollow in the desert. It stood taller than the others, and as I looked at it, I could not tell of its status. It was not that it was hard to see, but rather that it seemed blurred in my perceptions. It appeared to be fine, but it felt as though it shouldn’t be.
I drew closer to it, suddenly feeling as if I had lost all control. Where in God’s name was I? I was apparently lost in my internal inquiries, as I was startled by the sudden sound of wood creaking beneath my weight. It took me a few moments to actually gather that I was moving into the entrance of this building.
It was dark inside, very dark, but in my provided light, I could vaguely make out the room. It was circular, and misleading, from the outside. I could only make out shades of red, grey, black, orange, and occasionally blue. There was little to nothing in the room. One chair, I believe, along with random goods strewn across the floor.
It was warm in here though…and entering felt like jumping back into the water on a cold day. I actually began to sweat, and I could feel my clothes pressed against my skin. For a moment I had begun to lose track of that uneasy feeling, to calm, perhaps. I did no longer feel a sense of pressing time, or a need to be quick anymore. Had I arrived where I was supposed to?
I then became aware that the world had become utterly silent. There was no noise, no sound, and even as I attempted to speak, to call out into the darkness to at least hear my own voice…nothing. I felt my vocals chord strike, felt the muscles contract and expand, but nothing emerged.
In sheer fear that I had become mute or deaf, I turned to the chair and kicked it over with the fury of a frightened man. It flew into the wall with no sound. Fell and rattled, with no sound, on the wood floor. This action, apparently, had its consequences.
I knew at that moment, I was not alone anymore, felt as though I had awoken something. I turned back to the center of the room, and hovering over the center piece of the room was a man in robes.
They were Bedouin robes, and I was relieved at the sight until I realized he had not been here before, did not belong here now. I was afraid to move, afraid to disturb him, until I realized once again that there was no sound. I shouldn’t have been comforted by the thought, as much as I was. He rested on his back, rotating about the center of the building very slowly. I was aware that, with every step, the velocity with which he revolved increased.
I could not stop myself, no matter how hard I tried. Some deeper instinct, some urge had taken control of me, or maybe I had merely lost control? Had I become a bystander to my existence? What could possibly be my end?
I became afraid at that thought. Was it going to end here? Could it end here? I had been drawing ever closer to the fiendish rotating man. I conceived, I foresaw, that as I made my next step, he would strike me as he passed, but everything stopped.
Or rather, it all happened so quickly it took not even a single moment. With the resounding crash of symbols, creaking wood, the sound of the chair, and tormented wails in the distance, calling for retribution, the man was raised to his feet before my face. Pallid skin stared at me with a fiery rage, and yellow eyes, like molten gold burned into my mind. I saw myself in those eyes, why did I see myself?
The sounds, all of them came to a crescendo, a painful climax as I felt a deep seeded fear. His mouth moved faster than my eye could perceive, but slowed down, only to return to its blazing tempo. His eyes were aflame, and it seemed like I was catching up to him somehow.
There was so much noise, everywhere. Every direction now was overwhelming. There were whispers, screams, subtle conversations. Gentle whispers of sweet nothings, proclamations of love, bitter screams for vengeance. Tears were being shed somewhere, and the floor was suddenly moist. Was it raining in the hut?
I wanted to raise my hands to my ears, but I could not, and with a crash of thunder and noise, I felt my ears bleed, and his forehead was suddenly pressed to mine. I could feel the flame of his heart searing my flesh. It was all silent then, and as he mouthed, I heard “I”
The dunes rolled over each other, like they were feeding on themselves, extending this desert into what seemed to be eternity. It was dark, but not night. There was a light coming from somewhere in the horizon, shielded by the dunes, casting a seeming shadow over everything.
The ripples in the sand were static, and even though the wind occasionally howled through gaps in the dunes, it seemed like a scene out of a still-life picture. The air was stagnant, but not stale, almost as if the wind itself was nothing more than my own imagination. The earth gave way beneath my feet, but I would not sink in. It all felt false, surreal, but there was a greater sensation, one of an impending reality
Every passing moment led me to believe that, in the blink of an eye, everything would be different, and I would be somewhere else, but no different. The scene would change, but the sensation would remain. It didn’t happen though, and I was still there, at the foot of what seemed to be a permanent twilight.
I was afraid to ascend to the top of the dune, afraid to see what lay beyond, but there was also a sense of urgency that beckoned me forward. A strange, inward panic seemed to eat away at my deepest self. My heart beat rampantly, but I was somehow able to maintain a calm head.
Yes, it was the past. There was no certain way to know, other than a strange sensation that it was a time long since past, like seeing a yellowed page of an album and associating the pictures with age according to decay. It felt old, seemed old, and my senses told me so.
Even then though, was it really from my perspective? I saw it all, but not from my own eyes. It was as though I were placed in the position of some lonely soul watching it all from a silent hill. Moving quietly as a phantasm, watching myself make these decisions, it was as though I was watching a macabre film, where I was the tragic figure.
I arose to the peak of the hill, and the wind stopped. All was silent was I looked into the distance. The desert was the world, and there was none else. I remember feeling absent and unsettled when the sun did not pierce my eyes. It was there, hovering in the sky, but it lacked the luster it should have given. While lit, it seemed like a flatly colored painting, a shade of grey somehow illuminating the world before me.
Something did stand out, however, something that I felt shouldn’t. In the distance, there was a small speck, nothing more than what seemed a single grain of sand in this massive desert. I felt drawn to it, and uneasy about how well it became known to me. Somehow I knew there was a settlement there, but no oasis.
I vividly remember asking myself, even if I wanted to get there, how I should go about it. The distance was so great, and I suddenly began to feel tired. My body ached and my head began to pound. I fell to one knee, gasping for breath, and asking myself why the sand was so cold.
I suddenly realized how cold it was…it was as though I had been blind to it before. This sun offered me no heat, but was rather more like a flashlight shining into an iceberg. I could not feel the wind, yet strangely hear it, asking myself why my hair was not flowing. Everything felt totally wrong at that moment.
I loathed feeling so weak and helpless, and fighting against a sudden nausea, I forced myself to my feet. After regaining my senses from dizziness, I felt a sudden dread descend upon my heart. My every nerve said run and hide, and my body coursed with tremors and chills as I found myself in that very place I had spied from what seemed to be miles away.
Now, much more than a lone speck in a sea of sand - no! An ocean of sand, rows of what appeared to be huts stood before me. They seemed to be symmetrically organized, and I felt they were properly placed, but I could not tell why. It was almost as if a chess piece from the board knew there was a battle plan, but could only see it when he was suspended above the battle field.
I was fascinated with that thought for a moment, and then cursed myself for having become distracted. Distracted? Did I have a purpose here? I felt that same sense of urgency, one that told me not to look back not to dare turn around, but I didn’t even know what was ahead of me.
Even that was becoming harder to discern. The sun derivative in the sky above me was now turning to a darker shade of grey, casting a more ominous shadow over the world of its vigil. Some how, however, directly in front of me was always as light as before, like a cone of radiance somehow provided for me.
I was uneasy now, about everything else. In the corner of my eye I could see shadows moving to and fro, or was it just my natural reaction? I could hear whispers behind me, unintelligible or maybe inaudible? It could have been the wind.
I ignored everything as if I was secure. Did I have a reason to? I wasn’t sure of anything at this point. Or was I? It was almost as if I was watching a different person, rather than myself. Or maybe it was me, but rather who understood what was going on. I had been separated from my own mind somehow.
I realized now that the huts were all in a state of disrepair and misuse. Tattered tarps flowed in this intangible wind, red markings of an unknown language littered their lengths. The wooden frames were desiccated and white, like bleached bones or dead bamboo, but still seemed strong somehow, or was it that in that manner they preserved their strength?
There was one that stood out, at the end of this…hollow in the desert. It stood taller than the others, and as I looked at it, I could not tell of its status. It was not that it was hard to see, but rather that it seemed blurred in my perceptions. It appeared to be fine, but it felt as though it shouldn’t be.
I drew closer to it, suddenly feeling as if I had lost all control. Where in God’s name was I? I was apparently lost in my internal inquiries, as I was startled by the sudden sound of wood creaking beneath my weight. It took me a few moments to actually gather that I was moving into the entrance of this building.
It was dark inside, very dark, but in my provided light, I could vaguely make out the room. It was circular, and misleading, from the outside. I could only make out shades of red, grey, black, orange, and occasionally blue. There was little to nothing in the room. One chair, I believe, along with random goods strewn across the floor.
It was warm in here though…and entering felt like jumping back into the water on a cold day. I actually began to sweat, and I could feel my clothes pressed against my skin. For a moment I had begun to lose track of that uneasy feeling, to calm, perhaps. I did no longer feel a sense of pressing time, or a need to be quick anymore. Had I arrived where I was supposed to?
I then became aware that the world had become utterly silent. There was no noise, no sound, and even as I attempted to speak, to call out into the darkness to at least hear my own voice…nothing. I felt my vocals chord strike, felt the muscles contract and expand, but nothing emerged.
In sheer fear that I had become mute or deaf, I turned to the chair and kicked it over with the fury of a frightened man. It flew into the wall with no sound. Fell and rattled, with no sound, on the wood floor. This action, apparently, had its consequences.
I knew at that moment, I was not alone anymore, felt as though I had awoken something. I turned back to the center of the room, and hovering over the center piece of the room was a man in robes.
They were Bedouin robes, and I was relieved at the sight until I realized he had not been here before, did not belong here now. I was afraid to move, afraid to disturb him, until I realized once again that there was no sound. I shouldn’t have been comforted by the thought, as much as I was. He rested on his back, rotating about the center of the building very slowly. I was aware that, with every step, the velocity with which he revolved increased.
I could not stop myself, no matter how hard I tried. Some deeper instinct, some urge had taken control of me, or maybe I had merely lost control? Had I become a bystander to my existence? What could possibly be my end?
I became afraid at that thought. Was it going to end here? Could it end here? I had been drawing ever closer to the fiendish rotating man. I conceived, I foresaw, that as I made my next step, he would strike me as he passed, but everything stopped.
Or rather, it all happened so quickly it took not even a single moment. With the resounding crash of symbols, creaking wood, the sound of the chair, and tormented wails in the distance, calling for retribution, the man was raised to his feet before my face. Pallid skin stared at me with a fiery rage, and yellow eyes, like molten gold burned into my mind. I saw myself in those eyes, why did I see myself?
The sounds, all of them came to a crescendo, a painful climax as I felt a deep seeded fear. His mouth moved faster than my eye could perceive, but slowed down, only to return to its blazing tempo. His eyes were aflame, and it seemed like I was catching up to him somehow.
There was so much noise, everywhere. Every direction now was overwhelming. There were whispers, screams, subtle conversations. Gentle whispers of sweet nothings, proclamations of love, bitter screams for vengeance. Tears were being shed somewhere, and the floor was suddenly moist. Was it raining in the hut?
I wanted to raise my hands to my ears, but I could not, and with a crash of thunder and noise, I felt my ears bleed, and his forehead was suddenly pressed to mine. I could feel the flame of his heart searing my flesh. It was all silent then, and as he mouthed, I heard “I”