03-10-2017, 12:45 PM
Ditch
----
The vessel awakes, coughing, fingers digging into slick earth. From the back of its throat the vessel hacks once more, shakily pushing itself up.
Its body is cold. How long has it been here, in this ditch? Like it'd been waiting in a haze of stagnation since time's lonely beginning. Since existence itself had lurched into consciousness.
The vessel stands to its feet, the grass pressed beneath it, sticking out like follicles of fine hair in the grasp of a hand. The vessel steps forward, stumbling only to catch itself with pale hands.
The vessel is stunned. Hands. It curled its fingers into the soil, the life of the ground upon whence it stood, taking clumps with it.
Again the vessel begins moving, lurching into the world. Fog hangs over the land, the black road slick. The vessel looks at it. Alien ground. Not soft and safe like the earth. The vessel sees a blurred, distorted thing looking back. Contorted in hard blackness.
Confusion. What is it seeing?
A face?
It touches its face, smearing dirt.
Across the way is pasture for cows, enclosed by a fence with sharp wire. There are no such animals in sight, only wind and crickets. The vessel looks to its left, then to the right, its movement creaking and stiff. It looks for the source of wind.
What is wind?
It looks up. The moon is the first face it sees. Shining white like a sky bound pearl, it reaches to catch it. It looks at the empty, dirt caked hand, confusion settled in the blurring haze that acted as a brain.
A piercing shriek draws its focus to a figure standing in the road. It is a woman.
What is a woman?
She is bright, like an angel.
What is an angel?
Why is she screaming? Is it a demon? What is a demon?
The vessel moves toward her, it feels its skin twitching and crawling all over. The woman just screams.
Did she come from the ditch too?
Answers are nonexistent.
----
A short, original writing loosely inspired by the message at the end of Tool's song Disgustipated.
What the meaning of this little writing? I don't fully know. Does it mean something to you?
----
The vessel awakes, coughing, fingers digging into slick earth. From the back of its throat the vessel hacks once more, shakily pushing itself up.
Its body is cold. How long has it been here, in this ditch? Like it'd been waiting in a haze of stagnation since time's lonely beginning. Since existence itself had lurched into consciousness.
The vessel stands to its feet, the grass pressed beneath it, sticking out like follicles of fine hair in the grasp of a hand. The vessel steps forward, stumbling only to catch itself with pale hands.
The vessel is stunned. Hands. It curled its fingers into the soil, the life of the ground upon whence it stood, taking clumps with it.
Again the vessel begins moving, lurching into the world. Fog hangs over the land, the black road slick. The vessel looks at it. Alien ground. Not soft and safe like the earth. The vessel sees a blurred, distorted thing looking back. Contorted in hard blackness.
Confusion. What is it seeing?
A face?
It touches its face, smearing dirt.
Across the way is pasture for cows, enclosed by a fence with sharp wire. There are no such animals in sight, only wind and crickets. The vessel looks to its left, then to the right, its movement creaking and stiff. It looks for the source of wind.
What is wind?
It looks up. The moon is the first face it sees. Shining white like a sky bound pearl, it reaches to catch it. It looks at the empty, dirt caked hand, confusion settled in the blurring haze that acted as a brain.
A piercing shriek draws its focus to a figure standing in the road. It is a woman.
What is a woman?
She is bright, like an angel.
What is an angel?
Why is she screaming? Is it a demon? What is a demon?
The vessel moves toward her, it feels its skin twitching and crawling all over. The woman just screams.
Did she come from the ditch too?
Answers are nonexistent.
----
A short, original writing loosely inspired by the message at the end of Tool's song Disgustipated.
What the meaning of this little writing? I don't fully know. Does it mean something to you?