Vacuum
September 18, 2009 by lastgunslinger
You clung to happiness as you walked along the empty streets. You would wonder aloud for in emptiness, the difference between silence and noise almost amounted to nothing. You spoke to yourself as though you were scared for your spit to spoil and for your breath to stink.
You made bubbles the shapes of hearts and flowers using the imagination you had picked up along the way. If blood were a bubbling agent, it would have been what you’d used for you slipped a thousand of times on black, bloody puddles not far back, both in place and time. You were amazed that also in emptiness, red and black looked the same.
You touched the ground to try and shake the world into existence. You slapped every corpse you saw, pleading for it to bear witness while beckoning everything to stand still.
Article by article, you started to undress yourself.
Atom by atom, you started to lose your sanity.
You were the immortal spectator.
You found out, quite without even thinking, that in emptiness, love and hate felt the same.
