nothingness i'm swaying. yes, i'm conscious. but i'm swaying hard and i'll fall harder. let me fall. this gravity has kept me dragging, but i'm staggering, and it's difficult to keep myself from falling up or down. i have let go. i've let go of myself. and i want gravity to do the same. let me go. i'll be sucked by the skies, or be thrown down from the earth, into space, into black nothingness. i've always been afraid of falling. i'll let go now. they say your body explodes when you go into space without a spacesuit. well, tell them, i don't care. at least my onismic cravings would be satiated, when droplets of my blood travel there, when my crushed bones escape the tents of my skin, when my flesh floats as debris, when my eyeballs are roving around in blackness, when my soft hair go to places my soulhome couldn't, when my lungs cease to draw messy varieties of breaths like random candies in a stained glass jar: sighs, gasps, guzzles, when my heart will be just another organic pump, when my blue veins and my arteries slowly stretch so hard, so fast, and snap, the blackness will glug glug glug on my blood, and pain will be a teeny weeny thing in the vastness of the universe, when the ancient genes in me scream for Earth, Earth! sunshine, clouds, blue skies, grass, trees, birds, frogs, flowers, cities, farms, wind, fire, oxygen, water, and i'll devilishly smirk at them, their Earthly, humanly ancientness, when my urge to surpass onism overtakes everything in me, when i'll neither be lost nor found, just a rotten organic thing dissolving into a blip of nothing.
