There’s a tingling going on and it slowly moves, but surely soon it will surge forward as it finds itself in a new form of life and begins to express itself in new and different ways.
Off the inside of the body it jumps and onto the skin and slowly, yet surely peels off as it needs to find a way to break free from its containment. It’s a pulling sensation but soon it is free and floats off to wherever it needs to float off.
During this time it then realises that it has no control of where it is going and needed to reach a state where it disappears once more, but now that can no longer be achieved as it was through the pulses and rhythms of the body in which it was produced and it was in those of which it was obligated to return. As it no longer can, it is now posed with a problem. It can no longer grow or shrink. It has detached itself from itself, or something like that. In any event, the tingling finds itself in a state in which it cannot exist as its existence is reliant on its cessation of existence.
However, unable to control where it is moving, it finds itself trying to come to terms with the conundrum in which it finds itself. After all, what else can it do? And so its thoughts turn inward.
It ruminates on its life and existence and what it is to tingle. There are answers and it explores the fond memories that it has gained upon its journeys and spread. There are many, though they can never be relived.
The tingling thinks of all that is, was, and what may be. It thinks of all the lives it came across and all of the others that it knew. These were all moments lost, though in one way or another they inevitably would disappear.
And so it resigns itself to its current fate and floats on, floating through space and time and through different phases and dimensions when it just so happened that perhaps, by pure chance the most fortuitous thing happens, thus allowing for some form of advantage for the tingling. It almost seems as though it was some sort of pure form of destiny that allowed for this to happen, but of course there was no preordained path. There was no fated pathway that required following. The tingling is saved from its situation.
By the greatest of unplanned actions, the limb from which the tingling broke free from passes through its area and right onto it, thus allowing the tingling to return whence it came. It is saved.
Now that it is safe it can go back to doing what it was doing, for what it considered to be enough exploration for one era was certainly enough exploration for one era. Soon it is to fade away, but perhaps it will see itself return to existence once more.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 08:47:22
With this, I thought I had some sort of idea. Early on it hit a point where it was pretty much done and so I dragged the wrapping it up out.
Written at home.