The darkness still feels as though it should be made of sleep. To be awake through its sombre heaviness still feels like the weight of insomnia and anxiety for day to come. I have not yet escaped the power of its conditioning. Movement feels censored, restrictive.
But those moments of almost-darkness... Those, I wish, would last forever. Neither sleeping nor waking but somewhere entirely magical in between. If a mystical being were ever to release me from the spell of reality, this is the time when they would come, and, eyes briefly clear, I would know them then. Or perhaps their role would truly be to enchant me; willingly would I consent. In that deep and timeless time, if one were to extend the invitation into the unknown and unseen, I would gladly follow.
I have spent a life of waiting for that invitation. What if the invitation needs to come from me?
But those moments of almost-darkness... Those, I wish, would last forever. Neither sleeping nor waking but somewhere entirely magical in between. If a mystical being were ever to release me from the spell of reality, this is the time when they would come, and, eyes briefly clear, I would know them then. Or perhaps their role would truly be to enchant me; willingly would I consent. In that deep and timeless time, if one were to extend the invitation into the unknown and unseen, I would gladly follow.
I have spent a life of waiting for that invitation. What if the invitation needs to come from me?