I literally saved this document as “this abstract piece of shit”

In a rocket ship I floated past the infinite, far-reaching, seemingly impossible cosmos composed of the essences of September, October, November and December, spiraling through space and tumbling across the stars… there, I jumped from one brilliant light to the next. I was looking for the brightest star, which would always burn out when I finally reached it.


The black star was no longer a star, but a hole. I was falling and falling straight through it, without looking back, and I never thought I’d stop, I’d lost my mind somewhere way behind in another solar system entirely. Careening down a black hole of emotion, slamming into misshapen and busted debris caught in the celestial spiderwebs. “Woe and darkness,” the particles whispered, and all I wanted to do was piece them back together. But in space, there is no gravity so the pieces continued their pilgrimage around space until the space itself imploded….


…….and thus I was spit into the flames of the Planet of the Forgotten, after all I had tried to do. Here, the lights were dim and flickered glumly, but I could see the Sun in the distance and knew that self assurance and strength could get me there.


And I took the jump;

my adrenaline rushing briefly, my fear factor soaring and my heart throbbing for a suspended moment;

and I floated to a new world.


A world with brilliant lights of every color, sparkle, texture, size, all smiling as best as stars can. With their vivid grins they laughed and warmed up my life; I received a rocket ship as a gift of hospitality. And in my ship I could beat the nonforces of nothingness and travel from here to there as I pleased, managing my own surreal affairs without wondering what or who else was hurting or burning under the Sun.


These stars, these stars, how I love and miss them, how I want to collect them in a Constellation just for myself! To stand beneath in the dead of night, on some earthly soil and shriek up to it, praising its glory and uncommon nature. 


These stars, the opposite of the gloom-filled implosion of days before: no, here the light and cheer exploded into supernova of an electromagnetic orgasm, the colors and the smiles beyond anything I could handle until I felt so light in betwixt their ethereal support rods that I missed the debris landing on the windshield of my ship.


And it turned out that

the abundance of happiness is what caused them to burn out,

in the end. All good things tend to burn out early.


And then there was nothing left in space for the seasons to enhance, but me.




I literally saved this document as “this abstract piece of shit”

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