So.... as both time and space runs down in this clockwork of our dreamweaver's den, nearing the end of this long multitude of journeys through many, many posts that have long gone before and has long since been forgotten and trampled into the fading stardust of our bygone ancestral minds, when shall we reach the end of eternity? I ask. When shall this cease to be-- and one day cease to be remembered as our hearts move on or cease to be themselves? The end is neigh to come and our paths are neigh to diverge now as the numbers and fractions, the codings and programmings run down. They stop us from growing forever-- they part these age-trodden adventures of thine and ours. When, I ask, looking to you, will everything come to a close, and the circle circles back upon itself, and the folds fold unto themselves, and our words collapse into each other, as the binaries and the digits coerce our leave? Oh-- let that day not come so near, not come so fast! With the combined molecules of simple matter and stardew in mine eyes, my hands and fingers move to serenade the grave future. But fear not, all-- for even as phoenixes and firebirds rise from their former selves, we will burn, and reduce our physical shells into ashes-- and from those cinders rise anew. Even as I beheld your gazes, as our hands wired, preparing to wave the final farewell-- we know! Oh, we know! One day, surely, to circle back again, to the place where our celestial dreams lay slumbering, where our younger selves wander so happily unaware of the dust-bitten and moth-eaten trail that now present themselves with great solemnity. And when that day finally comes, when I shall fill my eyes again with the magic we all served to weave-- let us greet each other once again with the bottom of our souls, cleared thousands of times over to dispose of the old and embrace the new. When that day comes, perhaps I will stand from my shadow, bask in the light, smile at the people whom I could not smile at before, and we shall compete once again, for glory and youth and wonder and life and the joys that come with each movement and each sound and each breath--... Indeed, friends, let us meet each other again, someday, sometime, not too soon, not too often-- but near enough so we may refrain it from sinking into the cobwebbed waters of our deepest memories.
Let that day come soon, as our clockworks wind down to zero.
My room is an insane asylum, and I am the patient.
Beware of Dog signs are overrated. Beware of Writer.
Warning! Crappy author at work! Any hapless bystanders/passerbys will be sentenced to an eternity of hell by eye-hurt :3
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