Fuck me

Once long ago, I trod upon a forgotten path. A withered, earthen, lonely thing. A disarray of crumbled stones, wispy cobwebs and a feral forest of rife undergrowth. My besotted mind was dull and addled; undaunted by this road of such a stifling ominous air. Drunk with my own relentless despair I stumbled through this foreboding path with the grace of a crippled cat. I know not when but quickly I saw my world contort, and twist with alarming intensity. My awareness was snatched by a sudden trance; my conscious smothered by gripping delusions, phantoms and nightmares galore. Before me unrolled the intricate fabric and tangible complexity of my being. Woven together by the delicate, feeble fibers of time. At the far end of this isle I glimpsed upon a dark, haggard figure. Shadowed and stained by hollow emptiness and nonexistence itself. There before me stood a being whom’s essence would never be. The disconsolate embodiment of my own nihility.

Through the thick curtains of my dazed stupor I felt an odd urge to touch such a being. A creature suspended between the abstractions and possibilities of time. A nonexistent existence. I began to trudge onward; my limbs seizing and knotting within themselves, limping and splaying in a strange, drunken, sporadic manner. The farther I continued on the abrasive carpet of consciousness and time the more increasingly bizarre and exotic the ambience became. The haunting ghosts of future lives bobbled and hung aimlessly in the fixated air around me. It had no temperature, no taste, nor had it an odor. The ghosts strayed and gaped by my side. Haunting, diaphanous creatures whom I dared not to face. A sudden, erratic spasm of my body shattered the transfixion I had been damned upon. Wrenched from my dreams and spat out into a whirling vacuum of nothingness. A chasm, an abyss of sheer disconnection and dilapidation. Flashed before was the vision of my very own quintessence and animation. A lonely, disfigured fugitive to whom nothing was to ever happen.