The decimation of reality begins in one fell swoop.

found this on pixabay by kellepics

The ground wavers violently and you try to hold on to something to stop you from falling. It’s all in your head. This ride is aaaalll in your head.

That’s what you think.

Till the ground disappears from beneath you and you slip into deep darkness. Falling. Crying. Begging. As you fall, you try to hold steady to the fast fading fragments of what you know to be true: the latest notification on your phone, a subtle consciousness of yourself on the floor, and Davina’s smile, but it’s dwindling faster and faster, slipping through your fingers like sand. It’s as if Thanos fingers’ snapped.

But sometimes you grab one, a minuscule feeling, a glimpse that you’re still alive, still breathing. It’s just enough to keep your heart beating.

Then it violently drags you under again, because the journey is only beginning. Hello, darkness my old friend.

What remains of reality has disappeared completely and all that’s left is possibilities. Am I dead? Am I alive? What is this? Get it out of my head!

But there’s nothing there, just air. Did you have a head, to begin with? Or is flesh and blood only something that exists in this wavelength you perceive, or the dimension your fingers deem worthy? But that means you’re alive, and you have no fucking idea if you are. It feels like it’s your spirit witnessing these things.

A laugh. I laugh.

I’m still here. But it’s just another glimpse of the world that used to be. The world that was — or maybe never was? Who knows? It’s only temporary because before you can acknowledge the hair on your legs, you’re dragged underwater again, splattering, gasping.


Your mind is spread like butter on bread: not one or two, but three, four. And in every one numerous lives you’re living. Five minds seeing five — no four, or was it seven — people. It’s crazy. And that’s when the thought creeps up on you: am — am I going insane?

But what is insanity? Isn’t the mad man open to simply a different perception of the realms we could not ordinarily judge, speaking gibberish, because we are not opportuned to experience the dynamic of the other worlds. We forever live in the narrow line we were created to, never to step out of till our demise.

No, this is not insanity. This is the real beauty of life.

Because you’re a philosopher now. Reveling in the beauty of life and speaking in what mere mortals think are parables — when it is the simplest way to convey the sheer magnitude of what they cannot see, or understand.

They’re not allowed to. First the apple in the garden of Eden and the Tower of Babel. Their sight is limited, their souls confined and their minds restricted. But you, you have ascended.

I have ascended.

It’s like a man stands over you, holding your head open. His hands are wrapped around your mind, stretching your nerves to understand this new feeling, this thing called the fabric of reality. But now you know there is no reality, only perception.

And as each mini part of you becomes very real by the millisecond, you see yourself playing a part in these worlds and wonder: Who am I?

Who are you? The Son of the Most High? Get a grip.

All you can see now is nothing. Everything. The dynamism of the nothingness you live in and the minuity of your existence. Your irrelevance. A wheel in the wheel of wheels. No, a nut. A bot. Time is gone, and the earth is not a sphere. It is a circle. A flat circle.

That’s when you see it. You cannot explain it. Wings, and an eye.

Eyes. Everywhere. It has a head like that of a man, but it is plain white with no facial features. All around it is wings that showcase majesty, elegance and sheer power. But the scariest thing about it is its eyes. They are large, larger than the rest of its being. Numerous, seeing.

Omnipresent. I now understand. Everywhere at one time because He sees everything.

There is a faint voice crying at the back of your head screaming for redemption: a glimpse of the reality you loved once more. Your heart rate has risen violently, and you’re shuddering at your arms. Now you’re convulsing and you can see yourself writhing on the ground — an out-of-body experience — begging yourself to take your eyes off it.

Off what?

You squeeze hard and it's your legs, the legs you were trying to feel again, to be sure you are alive. Because you are.

Welcome back to your perception.



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