you are standing at the precipice. you are watching atoms split into fractions and you are watching fractions tangle into fractals that spiral downwards. you are standing still, with your back facing empty air, with your stomach ripped open. your intestines freeze over into a cool, unending tangle. they move downwards.
no, they move backwards. either it slopes gently or it falls suddenly or it is dragged down by its own skin. you are standing still, but you watch your entrails unravel to throw themselves into the dirt from whence they came. this continues until there is nothing but you.
you are standing at the precipice, although standing is not the right word to use anymore. (you do not have legs.)
you are at the precipice. you have no body, no skin or bones or muscle, no mouth to speak or hands to reach forward, you cannot hear or smell or taste or see, and you do not know what you are. the shape of your soul is just as much as a mystery as it was before were here.
you are waiting for something. a rapture. a rescue. there are dozens like you, non-beings that have let their bodies drip away in their waiting. they wait for the nothing to become something, for the fractals to take a definitive shape, for the absurd to coalesce into something that has meaning.
you have progressed too far. meaning is found in the dirt behind you, in the body, in the flesh. this 'soul' is nothing. the soul is nothing. it is fractals, it is abyss, it is spiraling away and forever out of reach, and you cannot return or step any closer. you have made it as far you will ever go.t there is nothing further.oothing that you can understand,this is where it iends for you.you are too human
you are too huamn to continue.like the rats will never nuderstand the the subway stations they traverse youwill never understand the soul you inhabit.and in uyour vain attmeptsto try you have lost allconnection to yourbody. the fles h is the only thing that keepsyou sane
