22 Aug 2009

[Book.]

I am a question mark, looking for a question. As I walk, all the world before me now becomes as the gray of oblivion, all my sensation becomes numb like sleep; I walk on and on, keeping without falter the onward progression of this self, and I now am unable to discern anything of what I come upon nor remember what I pass by. The day does not care, and hours tick on, I am sure. What planes of existence I may have crossed escapes me, the mystery not only being that the null takes over, but how I keep going on when this slice of the universal experience happens for everyone else in the world, and not for me. For I have become a living ghost, and time has no meaning when in this sleep that does not dream. When traveling in the underworld that was before there was a heaven and a hell.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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