Adventure in the Sea
August 9, 2010There was once a girl floating in the sea,
her family had been lost.
Perhaps dead,
perhaps terribly beaten,
lost in spinning waves,
sick,
despair,
knives in her toes,
twirled about,
insipid crawling.
She woke up to the vacant stare of reality,
sweaty, bloody,
stench so rotten,
fills her nostrils,
cut up bits,
torn parts.
It is clear she’s been through quite enough,
pieces eaten,
here,
there,
most everywhere,
dreaded sides of the same coin,
fluid,
sinking.
Cut to years later,
her eyes flush with water.
Tears.
Only in her panties, she crawls over to her closet suddenly frightened.
‘Why am I so damp?’ she wonders.
A chill runs over her body,
goosebumps tingle up her milky white thighs.
Deep cuts are visible on the upper reaches of her most erogenous of zones.
Screaming in the middle of the night, personalities that long since decided she did not deserve happiness have pushed her mind in many different directions.
This young 20 something female had her share of problems, inner torment had seized her whole. Divided her senses against themselves.
Horror that made the most simple of tasks simply debilitating.
Did she have the demons eating her alive, at night, when she closed her eyes?
Blunt force trauma destroyed much of her cognitive functions. She hasn’t much recovered and has left much of her off center.
That — and all of the drugs. Drugs were her source of alignment.
A being not properly tuned to this dimension suffers horribly at all of the distortion and perceptual static.
Such static causes a lack of focus with “reality”, as most “normal people” might otherwise be able to observe it.
Drugs and rare other conditions can sometimes help to calm the static. Help to align the perception to view reality as close to the others that inhabit this swallow reality as possible.
Though, the static will slow intensify, causing the user to increase their dosage. Such large dosages cause problems in their psychical body, causing a further disruption in the user’s ability to connect with reality. But this disruption is harder to notice and begins to be viewed as a normal part of the “normal” reality. Such detachment is viewable only from a third person’s perspective.
Over prolonged periods of time, this distance grows. From time to time, this allows the user’s perceptions to be cross-align with other realities. But using such a bastardized “hack” of one’s own mind causes these other realities to just be a jumble of images and not a clear existence that our current agreed upon reality appears to be.
Rain soaks through her skin,
teaches her a lesson about life,
teaches her about the beauty of death,
ridding herself of all the little insects.
Flesh so tearable, so mendable, so fuckable, so edible, needles, syringes, and power so filling.
Tiny little demons crawl about on the user’s skin, but they naturally tune them out. Their perception is not quite aligned to the point to properly observe them. Always the odd movement out of the corner of their eye.
Therein lies the problem, they think they have such a tight grip on what is real. But they are buried under the perceptual static of our reality, other realities, the billions of dead people who came before us who send out residuals of their own perceptions. Do you ever wonder why she always dreamt of people long dead and not her family?
Scratching at her heels.
