💾 Archived View for thurk.org › blog › 275.gmi captured on 2023-01-29 at 16:38:03. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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He uncrosses his eyes for a moment, then lets them drift back out of focus. For a few seconds, he clearly saw leaves in varying shades of green moving in slender lines like serpents rolling and squirming. Those reptiles took some hallucinagen or other. He thinks of ferns and then the fibbonacci sequence. Blotches of sloppy green swim in spirals in front of him.
He wants to stand. He tries to stand. The trap around his ankle does not allow him to. He settles back, wishing to regain strength.
Nataša had told him that she'd still be dying when he was crawling along the sand to have a final conversation with the sea. She had also told him which piece of music would be most delightful for his final journey. Naturally, in a purely Nataša-like way, she followed up with a disclaimer.
Since your final song will stretch into a widening eternity, you'll have to choose wisely.
He smiles despite the pain in his ankle. He always felt smitten, confused or both when talking to the dissolved girl. He continues replaying the conversation in his thoughts.
A widening eternity? What does that mean? How can an infinity grow?
Though he saw her femurs melting and skin was flaking and drooling from her torso, she smiled. It lit up in his hara. A recurring thought came to him. Was this what Shambal was so apeshit about? What about the hide of my woman? What about Nataša's dissolving skin? At the time, possibly because of the warmth in his hara, he did not think to fill his water bottle from the pool. She had replied.
Eternity is just an encapsulation of all that is. Beyond does not exist. In this case, your consciousness is what is. All that is. As you crawl along the sand with your fettered ankle dragging behind, and with a spritely companion bounding round you, the expanse of all that is - meaning you - stretches. You are never meant to reach its end. We are all immortal in this manner.
He lurches forward into the fern petals. Soft earth underneath gives easily to his fingers. He imagines worms carousing just below his fingertips. The soil is surely laced with ethanol. He knows the forest will soon break.
He begins to crawl.
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