Jun 09, 2008 03:35
You are not to worship false idols, but what have you been dying for? Your constructs are only constraints, your longing that chains you, shackled by your own two hands. And now the breath to struggle has escaped you, exasperated and emaciated.
No winds blow here, and the unchanging landscape stretches on forever. The ground withered, cracked, and dusty, the sky bleak as stone. The thought that it could come crashing down on us never came across. We lost count of the days fading into each other, blending like open wounds bleeding into each other. Each day I get worse.
I tried to pass the time by over-thinking, analyzing, observing. My companions show no signs of changing, no effects of boredom or any sway of emotion. I thought ill of them for failing to grasp the severity of the situation, for having no instincts for survival, just aimlessly playing like children.
Then comes the breaking point, inevitable and poingnant. Some shatter, some repair.
Over-thinking gets me nowhere; the best case scenario is that I'm standing still, the worst that I'm working backwards. So I stopped, and smiled, because when you smile the world smiles with you. As ridiculous as it sounds, I think it just might be true.