14 Dec The Sleeper (PROLOGUE)

The grip of the 9th sleep has become something more of a desperate clench, a grasp of desperation and violence alike. In a way, it is forceful, rather than the more gentle touch that it used to have many ages ago. The touch in which it holds now is much more of a pull, a pull much similar to the tides and force of gravity which exists within this dark pool, dragging me more further and further close to the bottom – wherever that may lay. With it’s tide over me, into deep sleeps I go, like the only sense of relief I am able to experience within this life, but even I have come to know that this was not meant to last forever. For the deepened and flashing dreams that once used to infiltrate the lines of these sleeps are now absent, instead now replaced with black with the dark surrounding – a glimpse into the void of sorts, where only my thoughts, hopes, and fears reverberate like some new sort of echo chamber.

It in these states where I can contemplate the end of all that is, as well as envision the beginnings that I will never be around to experience., and the beginnings that have long since been erased from my mind – for an Advents dementia finds a way of taking it’s rightful place. Instead, this whole state has become a way for me to manage the fires that now burn bright and wildly, the fires that still remain loyal to me that is – for they know which rage and desperation they will be put to use – and with will much greater than anything I’ve showcased before, they shall live on. This is the ending of all things I have come to know, and even still my eyes are closed shut, and even still my strength finds a way to fleet from me, much like the fleeting and fragile times that remains in a minuscule fashion within this very line. There is no fear left for me to hold onto, rather confusion and lack of direction is all that remains, for I know only hours remain until my final fates are displayed onto me, but it seems until that time comes to pass I am forced to remain a part of this drifting vessel while my eyes remain forced shut, with life and time alike passing me by rapidly.