Anonymous
A Flash Of Light - Prologue 01/24/26(Sat)05:52:59 No.25041392

File: SantaCruz-CuevaManos-P2210651b.jpg (91 KB, 500x375)

91 KB JPG

A Flash Of Light - Prologue Anonymous 01/24/26(Sat)05:52:59 No.25041392

I shall be posting the entirety of my novella as I'm writing it. Hopefully some anons will follow it.

Did it start then? I don't know. It may have always been there, waiting like a stalking feline, to kill for play more than necessity. In retrospect, a lot of unexplained things fit into place when I consider it was always there, and that I was walking a tightrope invisible to me; a spectral balancing act. I suppose it was easier because I wasn't looking down. You take a rather ordinary life, if not a tad tragic, and usurp it with things only supposed to live in imagination, things you consider only furtively lest they become real, and outwardly (I must qualify this point) you have the symptoms of psychosis, or its harsh mother schizophrenia, and you're liable to end up on some godforsaken psych ward with nothing but your cigarettes and the pair of shoes you walked in with (sans laces, of course). So what is it all worth, this houndish pursuit of something you cannot put into words, Its long, long tendrils invading the deepest corners of your mind? It's for naught, being perfectly frank. What is cancer for? The comparison should not cause umbrage. What I mean simply is that it, the thing I speak of, is just another way to die. Because that must be its end, as it is the end to all things. But what it is, what it means, you could ponder a lifetime. You can hold out the hope that in death you will have your answers, but there's a very sense of it being a plant. Allow me to clarify: it grows the more you water it, and the temptation is to see how much it can grow, with the real sense that the aim of your horticulture carries karmic debt, and that to keep growing it may, strangely in the mind possessed by it, somehow bring the answers you are looking for. In this sense, is the mind not a trellis? Besides that, which is the ontology of it, or, at least as well as I can convey the grounds of it, it is fundamentally experiential, as all great lessons are, and I will now convey it's subtle start and tragic end.