Hang your dream catchers...

Steps shake nondescript dirt loose into my unblinking eyes. I recognize a voice, and again I feel pain. Pain without a physical body is pain without physical limits. It wraps the world an all it consists of in misery. I cannot go mad, even temporarily, so there is no relief. I feel whatever is left of me, this fog and mist that must be the soul, try to expand and contract, trying to distribute the pain. I remember anger and darkness. The first sound that comes to me is water endlessly working at it's boundries, fuming that it can only go so far. I try to open my eyes, and realize they were never closed. I gradually realize I no longer need them to see, or at least to perceive. My hair floats around my head, and the waves whisper indecipherable comforts. I think I see flowers above me and I try to move, but I'm firmly entangled in something. Several somethings. Am I stuck between that world and the next, caught in twisted wet bars forever? With the full realization of what I am and what has happened, merciful nothingness comes for a while.

...And then I'm thinking again, without the benefit of gray matter, and I feel pain, without the benefit of a heart. Enormous crashing encompassing loss wraps me. So it's all gone. I fancy I can feel my eyeballs decaying, breaking down and slowly deflating. Maybe this is just me still trying to distract myself. I can feel the cold water flowing where it would never go were I alive and whole. I can feel the breeze tickling me in places air has never touched before.

I'm trapped in the rot of my body. I float for a while.

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