Friday Freewrite

I walked a long way yesterday.  Walked right out of my head and into the black beyond.  Have you ever been there?  Not to my black beyond, I mean, but to yours?  Well they might be the same one I'm really not sure.  No one ever talks about it.  Most people probably don't know it's there.

But it is.  It's the reason we're scared of the dark.  Scared of what follows behind.  Scared of what comes after.

Because we already know: we carry it around with us in our heads all the time.  In the back, in a small unseen corner that never gets dusted there is a door.  Mine's large and wooden with big iron straps on it and a large iron ring for a handle.  It's a very heavy door and it's only meant to be opened once.  You know when.

But this is me we're talking about and I've always been too curious by half about what goes on in my brain.  So there I was poking around where I shouldn't be and I found this door in front of me.  How very odd.  Right at the limit of my brain, right at the curving wall of my consciousness I find a door to...what?  How could there be a door at the edge of me?  Where would it go?

Surprisingly it wasn't hard to open.  I just had to really want to go through it--but then, most people probably don't ever want to run out on themselves so their door stays shut tight and unnoticed in their undusted corner.

I think it's been calling to me lately.  I used to shout at it--or it would shout at me, I was never sure--'what are you?'  What are you?

Recently it's been a bit different.  Something's been calling back 'Come here.'  Come here.

Yes.  I'm coming.

Through the daily worries and joys I'm coming.  Past the shoulds and the should-nots I'm coming.  Past the buried emotions and the rock bottom instincts I'm coming.

Come Here.

I'm at the door.  I'm coming.

Come Here.

I'm here.

Here.

Oh God it's so dark it's so empty there's light above me and I think it was the door I came through but it's such a small patch of not-dark now and I think I'm falling further and further away and am I breathing I can't tell anymore if I'm breathing maybe I don't need to breathe anymore I've fallen right out of my body is my body breathing is it all right how will I ever get back how will I ever get out of this black beyond the black the black oh God it's so empty and I'm so small I'm getting smaller I don't know how I know but I'm getting smaller the black is taking everything away and soon I won't be able to go back there'll be nothing left of me

That's it.  That's what the black beyond is.  It's nothing.  Forever.  And you wonder why we all dream of falling and falling and never hitting the ground until BAM!  We jerk awake in our beds and tell ourselves it was just a dream, just a nightmare.  It wasn't real.  It couldn't be real.

We don't know that what we're really experiencing is time in reverse: a memory of what is to come.  The black beyond is stalking us in our heads and we don't even know it's there.

Don't go there.  Don't find your door whatever it looks like.  Don't wish to see what's on the other side.  There's a price if you want to come back.  A price to pay that you might not want to.  Because the price to pay to come back is to come back and live forever with the knowledge of what's inside waiting.  There's too much truth living in you now for all the lies and fakery to fit.  There's no place you fit anymore.  But there will always be the door.  Always the black beyond.  And when you finally dissolve into it maybe it won't be black anymore.  Maybe it won't be empty.  Maybe.