Slipping, sliding and falling eternally, as that seems to be the way to go these days. Better to fall endlessly into a void of one’s own creating than anything else. Totally in vogue and of course it only is as there is a strong sense of detachment when you’ve been doing it for years on end and thus have not seen another soul on your way down. Just keeps on going and it gets rather tiresome, but it’s the fashionable thing as far as you’re concerned. On the plus side, it gives a lot of time for thought, but if only the walls would change in design and materials, as that way there would be something else to appreciate… if the walls could be seen, that is.
It’s been a while since anything was able to be seen, so on the plus side the sound of the rushing past and through the body of air can be more focused upon and dissected when it’s noticeable, as eventually it became background sound and something that you’d have blend into the background blur that you eventually stop paying attention to it until it decides that it wants to suddenly pop into your mind for a brief period before fading back, just like everything else on the way down that decides it feels starved for attention on the odd occasion.
It didn’t take too long (relatively speaking) before this all became something you were tired of, then it wasn’t too much longer before it became stressful in another way. The sheer terror had worn off a while ago, as did the period of thinking about how this was a thing that was happening. Then of course the stress, annoyance and frustration came as a desire to have it stop became apparent, which led to the sense of hopelessness which of course ended up coming to a point of disappearing inward as there was no stopping this. There was no getting off this train as it continued on its traversal. It was only when it would decide you could get off before you could get off, but being surrounded by oppressive darkness for a constant period of time was interesting to some point. It was also interesting that it lasted for as long as it had, for it felt like an eternity. It was definitely much shorter than an eternity, but of course there wasn’t much in the way of telling as to how long it had been.
But eventually the eyes you’d had closed for so long had to be opened and, as coincidence would have it, shapes became apparent and form took on a physical manifestation just as the awareness of the sound of motion also came into a form of rebirth. Objects and images blurred on as they passed on by, though eventually there was the slowing down and it wasn’t much longer before form became clearer.
The train stopped and you got off, heading to where you needed to go.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 09:03:87
Bit of a mess and a bit dragging in places, but I really like the way this ended. I think I might try doing the same thing over a longer form some time.
Written at home.