Moments recede into history so quickly it is often difficult for one to distinguish one flash reality from another. Is it now, or have we run into the past? What's the scale against which we measure? As our attentions shifts downwards time spins off into infinity, transforming seconds into epochs: no longer within the realm of comprehension. Events expand and retract separating each snap of certainty into uncorrelated pictures of madness. How far down must one venture in order to discover truth, and once unearthed, how long will that truth last?
Flashes of powdered blue and crimson scorch the scenery that surround me. Violent explosions and interminable reactions mixing in a cacophony of movement are interwoven into the landscape. Dreams and desires sweep around and around: lighting up my night sky. If only he could control it, if only he could understand the symphony that underlies this insanity! It shall never be, he has neither the strength nor the wit and so I find myself in this most detestable of positions; I see the beauty that may be but lack the power to bring it forth. Oh muse, must thou so torment such a genuine disciple? What cause have ye to send the vision yet withhold the scepter from this bedraggled soul?
Day comes with all its vaunted glory to crown these gray hills with rosy dawn. The angels and the anguish of the night recede to that starry underworld which lays continually just beneath his reality. Motion, pain and pleasure come spilling out: measured, calibrated and then restrained. Emotions flood the world around me and then pull back into their assigned spheres and proper allotment. Drenched in hate and torpor, I begin to wander about through mundane memories of his everyday minuta. The acrid stench of consumptions dances amongst the ruins of years well past.
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