a black ocean

“Listen, what’s the point of anything?” the man had said, so definitely willing to contend with the spectres and ghosts of the worlds of despair.  Maddening hounds, slavering at their rusted chains, the insanity of any sense or reason to be winnowed out of this imperfect world.   I could call him anything.  Joseph, Martin, X-337, dogboy, it doesn’t matter the man’s name, as this feeling is normal.  People have learned not to question so deeply into the abyss.  They have learned not to coax the beast and, perhaps in this peace of mind, some purpose can be found.  Some wrestle it to the ground and slay it, as their purpose is evident and plain.  They are alive.  So are you.  Hi.

Perhaps Joseph lies dead at the wayside.  ‘How can you be here if you’ve given up?’ we wonder.  We are alive in this world, after all.

“Who was this dead boy?” you ask.

“Maybe he was trying to ascertain some living reason,” I say.

Don’t despair.  Be uplifted.  Do not be sad, be happy.  There are all kinds of worlds out there, worlds out here, it all may seem so humdrum, plain and blah, but people are soft.  You do not have to be soft, you can be like us, you and I, in this story.

We are adventuring through a story, you and I.  We are leaving behind the false world we truly live in and embarking on this world we are creating in our minds.

Many fall at the wayside.  Do not get lost.  We want to forget it is in our minds.  We want our brains to release us from this mortal coil and send us God knows where, but only for an amount of time to allow us to be renewed.  Zombies eat brains, but they are only in this story as I had just only recently mentioned them.  Now those, too, are fading into the dust, and we light our fire and sit in our tents in the desert now.  We wear swaddled cloths, to protect us from the grit and sun, and roast the meat over the fire.  Our eyes swim with misty memories of brothers we have lost, and we drink our hard liquors with purpose, to fall into oblivion, sweating in our clothes, and so thusly wake up in a new day.  We want to be free, but we know the only freedom is to return to the burning void that men have questioned and died for.  We live, you or I.  What calamity it is to strike the thunders of the Heavens.