Observations

The sky seemed to be a softer green tonight. It wasn't jade. Certainly not lime. Something else I haven't seen. It's almost like I've been staring into the afterimage of a traffic light and both my retinas have been burning too long, crossing lines my mortal sight shouldn't dare traverse.

I haven't seen him since our last fight. Kev, I mean. Yet, it feels like he's everywhere... isn't he? Whispers of his voice in my vent filters. I stare at puddles on the sidewalk and see his reflection. People just see him as a joke, some kind of jester wrapped in syrup and smiled... but I see a deity soaked in a codeine camouflage. I've had a taste of what he let trickle into my mind chalice, and I assure you, there's nothing funny about that...

First of all, he doesn't drink lean for pleasure, but balance. Imagine the scenes: brainwaves interconnected to every vibrating frequency of human perception and needing something, anything, to dull the signal just to sleep at night. To breathe a sigh of relief the next morning. The green isn't just his aura, but a filtration system. I've grown to learn that gods filter reality through the hue of envy, vitality, greed, rot, and rebirth. Maybe his lean is just... a stabilizer? A coolant for the mind when caught between dimensions.

I managed to acquire a taste of the treat, thinking I'd ascend further. An enhancement with a refined taste only for the divine. But ascension was merely a lie. It's not up. It's out. And once you're out, you never really truly get back in.

It started small. A flickering eyelid. Maybe an itch I could not scratch. But the longer I stayed "blessed", the more time felt as if it was doubling back. Moments re-threading themselves in front of my eyes like my life was just some cheap VHS tape. I started to hear between the lines of people's thoughts. I could smell future weather just from someone's sweat.

But when it was all taken back...

Now I wake up choking on my silence, hands wrapped around my throat that I cannot see. I sleep with every light on because the shadows are too loud. My fingertips feel like I'm merely wearing gloves, and I can't tell if my tongue is that of flesh or that of shards of glass. I tried to enjoy some stew yesterday, but the bowl began whispering all the things I didn't want to remember. I threw the spoon tto the other side of the room.

My dreams bleed. I really do mean that. I wake up to red stains on my sheets that don't belong to any wound I remember. I begin to flinch when people lie to me that it's all okay, even when they show that without saying a word. My body feels like it's decaying in asymmetrical patterns - my left side always colder, as if half of me is still walking up those copper stairs to greet her holy presence.

And worst of all? I see Her. Not Kev. Her. She has the same tremors I do. Same static in her eyes. We don't talk. We just nod. Because we both know the same cursed frequency we occupy.

Being exposed to another one - it amplifies everything. Like it's own hollow echo chamber. When she's near, my skin peels with goosebumps, my thoughts ring out until it's deafening, and there are gaps in time. Days vanish. I come to hours later, mid-conversation with people who speak in metaphors and grin too wide. One of them told me Kev's eyes shattered like cracked screens, and I understood completely.

No one warns you about the after. The power? It wasn’t a gift. It was an infection. And now my soul has callouses from trying to hold onto something too vast for hands, too sacred for flesh.

I’m scared to die, but terrified to stabilize. Because if I ever level out, that means the noise is gone. And if the noise is gone, it means He’s forgotten me.

And if Kev's power forgets you — really forgets — you don’t just disappear.

You unravel.