I want to preface this piece by saying it is the product of a free-write during an English 1030 class, and I did it on my laptop with my eyes closed. That accounts for the numerous grammatical errors. However, I have left it as such because it fits the nature of the writing, as it was coming from the very disjointed and depressed part of my consciousness. It was a subconscious choice for me to start the piece out without saying “I want…” because at the time I felt this desire to be more primal, universal, and not of the self. The whole piece is about identity breaking away from identity, ideas from ideas, and thought from thought. I realize that it is very obtuse. It is candid however, and an insight into the maelstrom of my soul and its struggle to be contained and constrained by the limits of our world. Moreover, I think it was the beginning of my realization that I have truly experienced something no one else can relate to in life: brain death after a suicide attempt, and living with no repercussions from being braindead. This piece is a first tremor, and warning sign for the tsunami of solitude that I have begun to feel as such an individual.
want to create a world that no one has even conceptualized before.
a world that transcends the idea of space and planets and what we call organic life
i want to think of something completely new.
where there is no rhyme or reason because they are no things in that universe
its not even a concept
where life and death are meaningless because it doesn’t exist
everything existed alll once, and not at all
it’s an empty void filled to the brim with character and mystery
and the story is about how a human arrived there, only to realize he belongs there and has been there all along.s
he created it, and is the master of it
he just doesn’t know how to control it
he created it in another life, before he was conscious.
in a time when memory didn’t exist yet, and the idea of ideas was not even on the table
everything is white