where you are

imagine for a minute that you are in a swamp. imagine the emptiest, most colorless landscape possible. this is where you are. this is your current surroundings. the trees are a mush green, as is the ground, and the sky. is it night or day? doesn't matter. it's just blackness here. you might as well have no soul. who needs one, anyway.

anyway. there you are. are you physically there? you might as well be a floating eyeball. one of those floating camera robots form movies and imagination. never mind that this is imagination. imagine that this is not imagined. this landscape? this is who you are. be there. be here.

there is no sound. like you're in space. so silent, you've probably just gone deaf. but you can hear the faint sounds of some small voice nibbling at your sureness. you might as well be blind, because there is nothing worth seeing.

then, there is somebody else here. where? how do you even know that another person is here? who is it? is this person... kind? or cruel? foolish? amicable? reticent? tempered? tolerant? able? reserved? alive?


after a moment or infinity, the sensation of the muck inside your guts changes. not murky, not a cluttering, but a jerking of tendons and creaking. suddenly there is something sought. suddenly satiated senses are unsatisfiable. suddenly, you crave it all: a raw sensual mourning, a deep thirst in the bottom of yourself that threatens to creep over the edge and saturate. you need anything and everything. it is not merely hunger, greed, or lust. it is a yearning so strong that it borders on apathy. to care so much that you do not care at all.

you realize that this desire, it seeks what was already had. you want a state of nothingness, a soullessness, an independence. you were not searching for the somebody else, because you found yourself. you know, now. you know. and that is not enough.