Earth is a floating mass of human bodies, crushed together, and reeling around in space. Abstract. Inter-Connected.
Everybody is there crawling all over each other in their lust and bile. I was born right in the center of this mass of writhing corpses, twisting about in agony. I cannot remember my birth but I do remember the writhing. I believe I was born near the center of this mass. After I gained the strength of adolescence, I began pulling and kicking my way through the suffocation. Fat and skinny bodies were every, piled onto me from all sides. Immersed. Submerged inside a floating mass of flailing human limbs. Disgusting. Wretched. Putrid. Flesh.
I remember the weight most of all, so heavy from every angle pressing down onto me. There were women, children, men of all shapes, sizes, and degrees. Everybody was naked. There were penises, vaginas, and tits all around. I was naked too, struggling to climb out. All I knew was that I was desperate to escape this place of wringing and writhing bodies. I think some people call this Hedonism. I am not sure. What I am sure of is the farting, the shitting, the pissing, the cumming, the milking, the spitting, the drooling, the stench of life, all around. Everybody was amassed together. Everybody called this their freedom and their equality. All I experienced was writhing bodies shitting in my face.
Then it came, my end. I reached up into the flab and flesh of several bodies and wrought them apart with my feeble strength to see the black dead space of nothingness loom out in front of me. This was my escape into the unknown. And as I crawled out onto the seeming surface of this world I saw the bridge and border of two phenomenons. One was the body of masses from which I was escaping and the other was black nothingness. The horizon was full of bodies on one side, death and darkness on the other. After I pulled myself out of this mass of corpses I crawled and ran across the surface for years or centuries I cannot tell. But nowhere I went changed, still bodies everywhere. Earth is this mass of bodies. So I began to let go of it and drift away into the sea of blackness.
Then the true terrors began…
Cut Loose from the womb of human life, floating away, I realized that there were two or three others also cut away and drifting farther out than me. They were screaming in horror at the pain of nothingness. I quickly understood their agony as death took me, kept me, and crippled me with its chill. I then understood the pain of nothingness. The magnitude of this horror was nothing comparable to the insignificant whining of my time spent crawling with the corpses. Even there was a bit, an ounce of grace amongst the depravity. Out here in nothingness however there is only nothing. I quickly swung around in dead space, spinning and spinning with nothing to grab onto, drifting away into the void. But I grasped a hold of an outstretched arm, not reaching out to save me, but one of the corpses trying to wriggle itself out of the mass below. I used this arm to pull myself back in toward Earth, toward the human flesh, toward reality. And with my other hand I grasped onto an outsider, linking him to salvation. With this link I pulled with my might to bring him back down to Earth. For the flesh is equally horrible in some ways to the nothingness.
But if you drift too far away from this mound of flesh, the horror becomes too much, too unbearable for any mortal entity. This dead space.
Yet now it is time for me to flee away again into the unknown. I saved one lost soul but I could not save my own. My strength fades and this time when I let go to the writhing masses of flesh, I know that I will not retain the strength to reach back. I fade away into the blackness, drifting backward, spinning about, losing direction. I will see nobody again. I will nothing again. I will return to that horror to which I tried to become accustomed, only to know in the end that this horror is reserved for the free radical, those electrons that drift off into new dimensions of existence. And I will never return to Earth and that mound of flesh because where I am headed is toward the eternal darkness, toward death and more painful things. More horrible things. More perverse things. More horrendous. More absolute. Nothing matters here. I am lost without the stars to guide me. Dead space.
I will not miss Earth as I will not miss the writhing masses of zombified, putrified flesh, hurling, gagging, and shitting all over each other. This is Hell on Earth. And if one of these zombies woke up and sees what I have seen then they will go to where I have already gone one thousand times. And they will die one million deaths that I have already been accustomed to over and over and over again. Death, repeated, eternally. Horror. Hell. These mortal souls are so simple and stupid that the writhing is the extent of their existence, their hedonism, and their flesh. Surely they must imagine that the cruel contortions of their sickened bodies are some kind of health, vitality, or life, but I have seen things that they will never see.
I only know the way through for some of those poor, unfortunate souls who will follow my path to where I have already been, to see what I already have seen, and to experience the most chilling realization of all which is the full extent of death and nothingness, to live eternally collapsed inside oneself. A black hole of thinking. A collapsed supernova. The universe turned on itself, contorting all notions of goodness, happiness, and life into mere caricatures of some bizarre play of lights. And in the darkest place of existence, at the center of a black hole, or in the reach of dead space, I know what awaits all those on the other side. The highest contortion of life, of reality, of the human spirit. Everything is perverted. Everything is wrong. Everything is dead, bleeding, and choking to death on its own vomit for example. I have seen these images one trillion times, repeated, played back to infinity.
I have been cut loose from the womb, and my blood spilled across the dirt. I was born ten thousand years ago and still I live.
No matter how many times I kill myself I still return, haunted by the same damnation. God why wont you kill me for the final time you fucking bastard!?!?
