Strings Strung
The bellowing of the orchestra throws me into movement.
I move with the swaying of the strings.
Unable to stop going higher and higher, I eventually see the Sun and fall, with my eyes burning (healed only by the satanic water I crashed into). But this time, I do not fall as Icarus did.
My bones, layered with various metal alloys, resists corrosion as I go deeper and deeper into the black sea of base magma (matter).
Due to the extreme magmic pressure and thus viscosity, my bones feel like they are being covered in a marmalade which does nothing but laugh at me as layer after layer of metal protective covering is eaten away.
Eventually, down to the last few layers, my bones, still conscious because, still having not died, I am only in a state of deep subjectivity, feel “something.”
It seems I’ve reached the bottom of the black sea of death. Sitting on the “ocean” floor, being melted, corroded, and crushed (because of the extreme pressure), I think of nothing, seeing only pure blackness the whole 360 degrees.
With only the last two layers left, I feel a movement beneath me… and then a light…
It seems the very pits of Hell have opened up to take me in.
As I fall into this fiery pit, I realize I breathe once more. The pressure is gone.
Down to my last layer, it seems I was saved by the Devil.
The issue: the Devil isn’t real.
I fell from the outer bounds of the Inside, for if absolute knowledge is equal to absolute nonknowledge, then the Outside and Inside would not be differentiable, which is obviously problematic.
What am I saying?
It seems some new demon has taken a hold of me.
Time, unsurprisingly, went unaffected throughout all of “this” (whatever “this” is).
I do not believe. Belief is something to be dispensed with. I do not believe in truth, I am submitted to it. I am subjected by reality, whether I like it or not.
