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Spirited away.

Crawling with your back sealed to the ceiling. Yes, right above you. Cemented to it. That chained freedom of a vagrant. No one owns me and I own none. I live in a 4*4 cube, in inches. Your own breath is the last and only thing to play respiring with. Indeed, Sir, thats your whole fucking life. Life in the tranquil wilderness. Undone and growing. Trapped, in the forlorn maze. The shadow, yes thats my sanity. Dimmed as a dying hearth. Chase it. Yes I did. I never found a way. I was there. I was here and the shadow never moved . But, it was in me. No, on me. No, above me or beneath me. I failed. I realize. I give up . I am hung on blades. Sharp and slicing, they are. My elbows, they wedge through.I see the flesh looking for a tuff mate. The last straw to cling onto. The last breath to live for. Rush. I am proud of my bones. Then, I realize. I was not just the spirit. I had a body. I wonder if its the inaccurate term. can feel everything, inside and outside its physical contact. Intricate and deep. The scar and the adrenaline plunging into the estrogen. Amalgamating. And, its punching me. it never stops. Pause. They are not merciful or planned. They are loose and sly. Its never parallel to the subtlest music my ruptured ear drums can recognize. It changes its stance on every synapse. An end and a start again. No static slithers past the rude one. Varying the intensity. The intensity, shooing past and dragging behind. Were are you? I pause and think, but I cant. a synaptic block. I let it flow. It ascends. It builds up. Tp the peaks , and breaks down. Uneven ! down to the dungeons of darkness. Relief. It starts. The elixir, the balm. Soothes it all. You can feel the machine running outta oil. Screeching. Moving but pausing. Fading. Trigerring, down. And , stopping. Numbing everything. Freezing the pain. Frozen pain ! dead and awaiting the apocalypse to quench its ultimatum. Frozen death. The pain escaping the pores. Cells fading off, into the oblivion. Pitch dark. Stopping one by one. Breath slow. And steady. Freeing their spirits out through the bar-red life. The scar, tend to sear you with its shrapnel. I see the sap drained. Yes, thats my relief is that time beyond the last breath. Out into the dew,I imagine. My perspective. Par the fenced meadows, I will go. I dont know about heavan or hell, but. Yes , ( stop there !! my inner soul moans ) that is after life for me. a world in which I can feel and see and touch and be every damn infinite dimensions hidden somewhere. I want the justice to what I live for. Yes, I want the life as a full apple. And this is not a request, an order it is. I know its there, merged into some unknown crevices, unseen and waiting to be unlocked. Reveal, I demand thee !

I will walk into that sealed truth, the life beyond death and death of death. I will fucking be there. It is the ultimate heaven and hell for me. Perpetual holy stake, it is. Nothing but life. My relief is that ultimate emptiness. That end of every danger that can stab me through any dimension. I am satisfied, relieved. The trumpet blows. Its par beautys vision. The shrewd bastards. He revives with my empty sap. He lives on me. the coiled wrath was waiting for an empty pebble to wriggle on. It descends. The scale, coiled heat. The wrath. I was burning. The heat was burning my tender flesh. Choking me with my own empty soot. Plain and empty. The unleashed wail. Cold and conjoint. Ripping through you. Yes, the answer it was. Pain, in every dimension! I craved for thou! The drilling gained fervor. Wobbly. Seeping the amoebic sap into you. Wobbly and uneven, bereft of any aim. Parasitic. Living on your dead shells. The final remains. One in you. Deep and coiled. Moving in you Within you. Above you. Dragging you. I pause. What have I got left ? My existence has fused into nothingness now. I have spirited away. Then, realized. Yes, this is the end. The realization that its finally, over! It just cant be. Yes, I want, still and always my life in full.