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Old 09-17-2019, 12:05 AM   #1
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A Diety Beating the Drum of His Fragile and Solipsistic Existence

A burnt clay silhouette, pitched among charcoal darkness; Man, standing on the edge of everything.

Yells into the dense nothing that he faces:

“I am here!”

Then listens intently for an Other. . . .

Which, finally, responds. . .

“I am here!”

The absence of light pours into his pupil like a libating intoxicant and bewitches him.

He floats into a dream and imagines himself a figure, carved into a mud vase;

a vessel on a vessel. . . kilned thrice over

and glossed into a scene that shapeshifts into eternity.

A stop-motion engraving of a red-clay man walking up onto a cliff’s dark edge and loudly exclaiming his existence.

His words rippling out into the abyss. . . in the form of squiggled cartoonish sketches that scatter and expand with each new iteration of providential etching.

A ripple only to return from reflection or to arise from behind after an expansion and re-condensing upon the parabolic loop which wraps around his convexly concaving reality.

The only way for him to confirm the existence of any Other was to persistently exist in a state violently raucous hysteria.

Only then could he hear the return response and create the possibility for anything to exist outside of himself.

The darkness continues to pour into Him; He never awakens.
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Last edited by wisefool; 09-17-2019 at 12:08 AM..
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