Thursday, May 29, 2008

Drabble: Throb


The bright throbbing invades into what I ridiculously imagine to be normal consciousness. How truly could one call it consciousness, when so impaired? Knives of fire press into the back of eyeballs, and erase all certainty. It becomes impossible to imagine existence as it was mere hours ago, existence without the pain. Had it been real, or was it just a phantom memory? Because the feeling has filled reality to its brim, to overflowing. The pain is so pure, so unflagging, that it goes far beyond the mere "real." This is how gods are made, I imagine, as I sink.

No comments: