The Drifter

The sun sets in a world that has no night. No, you choose when you go into the darkness. Emotions move you in a fully embodied way, and they lock you temporally until you decide to do acts of service in the day and fight for your life in the abyss.

It hurts, you scald, but you must tear out your eyes and senses in order to see what is true. To you, it seems, there is no truth in this world.

But that is not true.

You ride upon a horse, one that is not truly there. You conquer emotions that are never fully supressed. The dial of white and black spins in a way in which it exists in every state, in every universe, in all forms at once.

My eyes are black, and you bleed white.

Upon the crystalline, citrine crescent moon, we mourn.