The feeling never gets old, as I glance out the small, oval window peering into a sea of infinite blue. Moments like these are unmatched in times like these; times where reality has long since begun to crumble, times where there really isn’t anything left at all to cling to. In these fleeting hours that I’ve come to know so well, the same hours that haunt and beckon me with repeating numbers in codes, like some sort of map guiding me to an end I’ve always wanted – cycles have begun to fall; and with their fall comes the crumbling of much that has been shackled to me, strapped me to the seat, all of this time. But it is these very cycles that know now that I am unbound, that know now for things I once yearned and for those I once mourned – have now begun to fade at a rapid pace. The very matter, the very prominence of such things, now long since being turned to nothing.
So as these towering castles begin to make their way into view, much more faded, much more tired, and much more worn and torn than I had once known them to be – it becomes clearer to me that all is now reaching it’s end, all is now arriving at it’s end, and it’s at this very end that it begins. For it was on these very cold and lonely platforms where I first felt the yearning to let the dark in, these very platforms where the feeling of disintegration began to settle in as every bit of solace and peace left my bones, these very platforms that witnessed the poisons and cycles of this life begin to drain me out, bit by bit, these very platforms that lead me into the dark – the only platforms that would see my departure assured, whilst these very castles like towers that stand tall that witnessed it all, an exile – take place.
