The Purpose

One word at a time I moved forward. Step by step, word by word, thought by thought. I was surrounded. The expressions of all the others were suffocating but I was still breathing. I thought of death, surveyed my vitals and determined that it wasn’t time. The thing was, I realized that death was around the corner, again, but more surely, so I’m already there, even though I’m not yet there, but I am there. If ya don’t know, now ya know.

A placemat was set and I sat down and sipped the tea that was presented. I inhaled the steam and entered into a dream. Alongside a snake I swam in a beautiful river. That was my life: beauty but the snake always there. The snake faced me and looked me in the eyes. My arms were frozen. His forked tongue slithered from his mouth into mine and that was the end of my breathing, but I was still alive. Then my arms had power, so when I woke I was on my back and choking the empty air before me, breathing hard, still dying. I read some Epictetus and slipped into depression. The madness spread slowly. I walked slowly and considered all the words spun around me, the people, the weavers that spun. They didn’t know that I knew they were trapped in their perspective. But they didn’t even know that about themselves, so I didn’t fret about that. That’s what it was, and that’s still what it is.

I knew everything I needed to know a long time ago. Everything now is about establishment, bringing truths buried in my subconsciousness to the surface. My blink is slow, squint hard. My deep breath is deep. When I weep, I weep real tears. My fears are real. My ambition is over. Done. Cooked in a world oven to a burnt crisp. Now I creep in the night. Eat and drink according to the purpose.

The purpose.