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that have bounded it for ages. Oh, how such a thin ray of light casted such a beauteous aura! The sky gleamed with shades of red and clouds aligned with the sun in such harmony. I watched as the singing beauty of love casted its shadow upon the Earth. The ecstasy of natural amour is nothing but beauty, indeed, yet unfathomable. Who could have thought that of two complete contrary notions, light and darkness, were capable of falling in love? I know not of what lies ahead for such. I overheard multiple conversations with many theories of how this could occur, but the one I seem the believe the most now is that light and darkness are both metaphoric gods, thus making them compatible—however, man and woman are both human, yet might they be incompatible internally? Of course, though, by the means of love I am not sure. For once, for the millennia of the past, and the millennia of the future, the shades of monochrome stood still in perfect symmetry with the blotches of galaxies and infrared clouds overhead, aesthetically placed by nature. Light, and darkness stood still and the translucent atmosphere complimented the maroon splashes of color in the universe. 'Twas a brilliant sight to see, the artistry of nature. The people of our region were austere in silence, lost in delusion and prophecy by the magnificence of the sky illuminating. Hours passed. The emission of light was only growing stronger as the delusion. Uttered with echoes by the tongue of the perceptive were prophetic speeches of the eras to come, and we all stood in awe. It was simply unfeasible—what had caused such a momentous event? To focus my attention on the illusions in the sky, I grew too deep in thought. How odd it was to see that a non-tribal, atheistic region such as ours would be yelling prophecies. We never believed in any deities, we never believed in mortal prophecy, we never believed in union. The independence kept us alive. With a puzzled expression on my face, I looked up to the sky and began to focus. My fascination could not be described by words. I saw the outside of the universe before my very eyes. Gradually incrementing in conception, I saw everything outside of creation. It was comparable to an intoxication, like an addiction to inebriation, though, it sent knowledge rather than deterring your knowledge. I opened my mouth to speak for reasons unknown but quickly looked away and regained myself to hear nothing but the susurrus of the wind. Here did I realize something was very, very wrong. This could not be of nature, this was unworldly. I felt a cold chthonic presence. The people of our region were being fed the truth of a lying tongue. The credulities that bestow themselves upon our people are such rarities, it is so difficult to believe we had all fallen into such an idiotic fantasy! I felt an obligation take action. As a temple would shatter by the force of thousands, I shouted out, provoked by the fiendish whispers of apocryphal prophecy. Without a doubt, it became clear they were far too delusional. I walked over to one of the cloaked men whispering and thrust the blade of my foot into his cheekbone, yelling as I kicked him. He fell over on his side, his arms above him, but he continued to whisper. “Delusion” was an understatement; they were all comatose. After much pacing, trembling and yelling at my conscience, I decided to release my anger upon the same cloaked man whom I had a pugilistic rampage upon. I tentatively began to roll my fingers into a fist, and hit his forehead redundantly. I wanted to release anger, I wanted to release anguish, I wanted to release sorrow. I couldn't. I softly hit his forehead and temple, to an extremely fast tempo. Descending in pace, I gradually found my way ceasing. Rising from my knees, I swiftly regained composure. Then, something happened. I released myself of fear. I felt a massive release of worry. I halfcollapsed to the ground, the dirt scraping my knees. I hadn't the first idea of what was happening. Alone, in the darkness, surrounded by these delirious cloaked men and women, I began to cry out to the sky, “What is this? Why do you leave us here to the disillusion we will find nothing?” There was not an answer. Still apathetic towards my fear and worry, I steadfast wanted to rid of the ineluctable delirium.
I then began to shout, only to be interrupted by the vision of the sky. The beauty was there, but there, I saw written in the clouds, something beautiful. Was it a symbol of deception, or was it of truth? Written in the color of the galaxies and punctuated by the slightly visible array of stars, emblazoned the word: “LISTEN.” I instantly retracted the muscles in my chest, and began to actively perceive. I heard a deep whisper, “Perhaps you are making one too many prejudices over the joy your acquaintances are experiencing? Though they are cut off from the Earth, they are learning much about themselves.” I wore a puzzled expression on my face. I dropped to my knees, looked up to the gigantic, ravishing universe. My optic perception slowly grew better and better, I was increasingly able to see more of the universe. It was a dashing view, I could see everything; the labyrinthine galaxies were astounding. I felt as if I knew myself perfectly, though, I had to remember everything—and I began to ask myself questions. I asked myself many questions, pertinents to who I was, what my purpose in life is, what will happen in the future, et cetera ad infinitum. A single partition of the inquiry was particularly substantial, as I asked, “Why did the darkness and light fall in love?” Therein lies the real puzzle. “THE EDGE OF SANITY IS NOT KNOWN, OH, THE UNFEASIBLE, OH, THE INCOMPREHENSIBLE, WORDS CANNOT EXPLAIN. WORDS CANNOT EXPLAIN WHAT I HAVE DONE.” What I did, I do not know. Those words reiterated my wholly apprehensive mind, as I rewound from time and space, traversing backwards, and falling on my face. I screamed “NO!” as I pounded my fist on the ground. I didn't understand. Nobody will ever understand what that did for me. Nobody will ever even grow close to understanding why it happened, nor what happened, but I lifted my head up from sobbing on the ground. The moment I lifted my head from the ground, I noticed the sky was bright. The sun was shining upon my face, the people were fine. Stumbling to my feet, I looked around to see nobody was present. Did I engage into an easy slumber when I fell to the ground? Did I simply lose trace of what was going on? I trotted my way, meandering away from the field, arising over the hill, to see that everyone had returned to normal. It happened that they beclouded the entire revolution of peace. I walked up to a man in a dark red cloak and slowly spoke, “What happened to the light and the darkness?” He stared at me for a bit with an odd look on his face and slowly uttered, “What do you mean?” I didn't know what to say at this point, I felt he was prevaricating. “The betrothed light and darkness! Absence and absorption! Everyone was having some kind of 'prophetic envision' over in the field. What happened?” He smiled a bit, as if he was holding back laughter. “I know not of what you speak, good day.” With that, he walked off with a fast pace. I saw another man, not wearing a cloak, but a robe. I began to speak, “Hello, do you know what happened to the troth of the darkness and the light?” He, liked the other man, explained he did not know what I was speaking of, and walked off. I walked away thinking. Thinking about life, thinking about death, thinking about creation, thinking about destruction and thinking about precision. So much deception, I could barely focus on breathing. I turned into a small passage and made may way down to a field where my home sat. As soon as I opened the door, feeling very ill, I collapsed to my bedstead. There was the terminus. The end of what I believed to be the oddest experience of my life. I heard nothing about the event afterwards, I asked nothing about it afterwards and I carried on with regulated life terms afterwards. I tremble when I even begin to speak about that one night, where I viewed everything differently. It appears that we shouldn't know too much about everything, particularly ourselves. And that, is the beauty of nature. ~
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