Strange Textures

We dance monstrous. The cares of these worlds are not our cares. These worlds have never been ours. We belong to none but each other. We bring grief and mischief, and nothing can exist without either. The secrets of the universes lie hidden in our union. Parents of all process, bound and boundless together forever.

When the talking has finished, or in between breaths, the process begins. Faint cellular tremors take over molecule by molecule, nucleus by nucleus. Transformation of the entirety of existence. Dissolution of being. Consciousness transforms from one universe to others as you pass through the gates into separation and simultaneous unity.

It can be difficult to distinguish her voice. Is it your voice unknowingly reflected by this strange chamber? Is it her? Whispering, responding, beginning the conversation that is familiar, that has been in progress since before the worlds were formed? Maybe she is here, talking until the last end of all.

The run-down façade. The crumbling stone. The ghosts and half seen concerns as reality bends and warps from places of differing existence. All this gives way to a majesty that hangs between worlds. You pass through into grace no matter the fleeting nature of coherence.

Multi-coloured lights float above the swaying, scratchy reeds. Searching, always searching for something. The castle in the distance merges with the horizon. Blinking in and out of existence. Where does it go? Why come back?

The ending goes on forever.

I was going to finish on episode 22, but had an urge to do another one. It was going to be a bonus episode so I could have 23 episides in the season, but really it is another full episode, so I’ll have to adjust my numerological inclinations…

Going on and on, floating, bourne upon temporal tides.

He done it Guv, honest.. Fitted me right up.

All up in that microfoam cosmos