Well it’s been a while since I wrote something and though this isn’t particularly good, its’ something I wrote dammit, so here it is. read and critique, if you want, or don’t. I’m not sure what the point of it is supposed to be, I guess, except maybe the obvious ending. I dunno.
Read!
The man who would be
Silence.
That’s what there is here. Silence. Even my own thoughts generate no sound in my head. Not that I seem to have a head. There is no light, either. Silence and darkness, quiet and lightless. I wait here. I do not know how long I have waited; I do not know for certain how long I have left to wait. I do not even know if I am waiting in vain, or if what happened was true. It was a conversation held but briefly and I do not know how long ago.
To say that time has no meaning here would be both clichéd and false. Time flows and passes and touches me not at all. (After all, there is nothing to touch). But to say that time scales have no meaning would be accurate and informative. There is no light to measure its speed, no distance to measure a meter. What is a year, a second, an era? Meaningless concepts in this place. Perhaps meaningless elsewhere, I do not know. It has been so long since I have been anywhere else that to claim knowledge of such things would be foolish arrogance at best.
It may be foolish arrogance to even think I know something about this nowhere place, but I have existed here long enough to ponder such considerations for enough time to make judgements about them. And if I am wrong, what does it matter? There is no-one here to correct me, nothing here which can dispute my claims. That is the other conclusion which I reached as I fail to exist in this place which has no space. I have even decided upon directions, up, down, east and quartz. They are meaningless, of course. Even with myself, I have no reference point for which way is up, or how to travel quartz. But it amused me for a brief period to decide such concepts exist.
And it’s odd, really because such thoughts seem unlike me, as well. I suppose it is one of the effects of this place. I have been changed by it. And, as I try and think back on the past/previous presents/alternative presents, whichever term is more correct (though honestly, I doubt the veracity of any of those phrases), I wonder. If I am changed by not-being here, does my not-being here also change this nowhere? It is hard to hold onto thoughts when I have nothing in which to store them, not even a jar, and memories are as fleeting as any of my other ponderings, yet…somehow, I do think I too have changed this place. Simply by existing. It seems like a rather arrogant conclusion, but always I was an arrogant individual and here, with nothing to point out my incorrections, I find that my certainties grow by leaps and bounds, if I can use such a meaningless phrase.
By virtue of being sole dictator of what is applicable, I decide that I can
Ah, me! Come back my wandering thoughts! It is hard to focus without an anchor for you, I know, but still, it would be good to try, would it not?
That’s better.
So. By existing here, do I too change this place? I believe so. I think I can use that to my advantage, if I can indeed think. Sometimes I am forced to wonder how I can do that but not now. Now I am focused. I made a decision, I see. I wonder how long it has been since I last made one? I believe the last one I made was naming the directions that no longer/have never existed. I wish for a way in which I can measure time. So now I will have one and I will rename the second the second. And to measure it, I will need light. Yes, that it was this no-place needs, to make it truly exist, it needs light to define it, border it, show it. Oh, let there be light in the darkness.
And I perceive it is so. I do not know how, or in what manner I realise it.
And I sense things picking up pace, now, time receives definition and , being defined, orders itself properly. Past to present. No further, always it goes from past to present and then from past to present again. First there is a bright white light, then it splinters and I remember these, a blue, red, yellow, and I can’t help but ponder this. Time flashes by quickly now, hurrying towards some sticking place. I think back.
“You will remain here. We need you to, you see. Eventually, we will meet again, if you do not fade away. Eventually, you will catch up, if you can only hang on.”
So bravely I do. And then I find myself jolted forward, though it’s odd as until then I did not perceive I had a physical existence which could be jolted. Yet still, that is what happens. And I find myself pushed forward, out of the no-place, into this creation. I feel a sudden exultation. I am, again!
“Only those who think. That is who we want to live.”
That is what was said to me. Well I proved that I can think! Now, I will prove that I can live.
I step forward. It feels like my entire body is brimming over with sunlight joy. I live.