Curling around itself and seemingly spiraling downward whilst not going anywhere at all. There is a large crash and it repeats. It loops upon itself and all remains grim and centered around a joyous movement, but all around said movement is not joyous.
The crashing continues onward and forever toward its own source from which it had long ago abandoned, and all continues onward and the squeals of those not seen and detached from their bodies rises somewhere in a background that is as present as the foreground.
Something draws out and cascades over a heavy grit and slow procession, and it finds its way crawling along in an unnerving manner. Slowly something builds up and looks to rise from a froth, and perhaps it might, but at the same time it seems unable to break through the thin film the froth produces and so it continues to lurk underneath, moving forward, appearing to lack hesitation in its motion.
Slowly and yet surely the sounds of others stretch out above a high plane before a thundering thrashing commences. A harshness and hardness becomes apparent and finds itself borne from the proceedings. Eventually it halts and that which was prior returns in a lowered, almost sluggish position. However, nothing has changed. All is as it was and so it continues until the next thrashing which comes off as more violent.
A contrast in imagery and tones comes forward and soon after, finally that which was lurking underneath breaks free and rapidly heaves forward. It looks and it searches for something, anything, but it cannot find that which it hopes to see. There is nothing to see and all is a void and so it walks off into the void that it is presented with.
It is not willing to accept this. It could hear things prior to its emergence, but that which it came from is now also gone, and so it has no choice but to search onward.
A sensation of something descending and moving about can be felt, but when looking there is nothing there.
Slowly, yet surely something fades into view and fills out with detail. However, it still remains vague and unfamiliar. It has the images of something that is recognisable, but it is not. It remains distant and difficult to discern, and soon it is entered as it needs to be navigated.
More voices are heard in the distance and more detail fills out, and slowly it becomes apparent as to where they are as they recognise it for what it is, but they do not recognise it as somewhere they have been, and so, guided by fear and uncertainty they try to make their way back to where they had started to try and see if they can return, but the way back has disappeared and it is almost as though it was never there. There is no return and so now they must wander, hoping to find something that will let them leave safely.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 08:42:84
As I was writing this I was drawing from the music I was listening to which became a springboard of sorts for a less vague narrative.
The writing is pretty crappy, but I do like the imagery.
Written at home.