Chapter 9: A Strength
he keeps falling.
it feels like hours.
he kind of wanted to find a way to keep falling. he realized that this world is kind of a function of his mind. he wasn’t sure if it was his mind, but he just figured that it was responding to his vibe. it was like at every corner, he would be presented with something so unimaginally horrible to him in particular. he wondered if it was a mind over matter thing.
”maybe if I stop letting these things bother me, they’ll stop showing up…”
he kept falling. he wanted to keep falling. and while he was falling, he tried to build up his mental fortitude. he tried to figure out the rules of this place. he put out a different energy, tried to think happier thoughts, and see if he could get ahold of everything…
right when he had a plan, he hits the ground.
he sits up immediately, using everything he’s got to stay positive and confident. it seems to be working, the images are subsiding and less insistent. he starts walking - he doesn’t know where obviously, he doesn’t even know where he could go. but, it feels like staying still was a recipe for being subject to more random torture.
the imagery around him starts to morph into an entirely different theme. now, there are no more memories. no more horrid thoughts come to life. instead, it was like he was surrounded by a theoretical world of potential creations. suddenly, it was like every album he’d yet to write, every picture he’d yet to draw, every performance he’d yet to play - all of it was surrounding him.
he felt elated.
suddenly, he was practically swaggering, bopping around to the music that seemed to have filled the air. as he kept it up, he realized he had command over the place. he was arranging landscapes, creating buildings, controlling the music, changing his outfit - suddenly he was all-powerful.
he creates a giant mansion just to stroll through, just because it would be funny. he slinks up to the mansion, does a little heel click at the front door, then galavants in to revel in this place he so flippantly willed into existence.
as he dances along throughout the mansion, he appreciates the interior - a chaotic blend of all sorts of unnameable architecture.
he moves to the sun room, and pulls a “sun” up slowly from the horizon out of the window. he looks around the sun room and realizes it looks exactly like her room.
right in that moment, the sun starts turning red. the mansion starts shaking. it starts crumbling. he runs out of the sun room. he runs through the hallways as huge chunks of debris fall onto him.
how is this thing crumbling so fast??
he rushes down a spiral staircase, jumping off of it halfway as it starts to twist and crack out from underneath him. he somersaults upon landing on the floor and sprints to the entrance to a wine cellar. he rips open the door and flings himself into the room.
the room is empty. all he sees upon entry is a single spotlight shining onto the velveteen blue carpet.
he walks up under the spotlight and feels a moment of respite - a restless one, but respite nonetheless. he can’t hear the debris falling, and in a way he doubts he’s even in that mansion anymore.
he puts his face in his hands and just exhales a huge sigh, rubbing his eyes and running his hands through his hair. just taking a moment to calm it down.
as he lowers his hands, he stops for moment and looks at them.
my arms are so bony.
he remembers the music he’s made, the other hands he’s held, the letters he’s written…
my wrists are so skinny.
he thinks about the cars he’s driven, the ledges he’s climbed, the ‘up dogs’ he’s performed.
…i love them
it’s at this moment that he feels like he’s figured this place out. he turns around and rushes out of the room and shoulders through the door.
his clone is standing in his way, so he says
”you look like a fucking tool.”
and just like that, the clone poofed into nonexistence.
he knows what he needs to do now. he needs to go up. as much as he can. that’s the way out. he begins shifting the landscape in ways he can ascend - scaling mountains that roll into treetop canopies into futuristic skyscrapers into nuclear-powered flight vehicles…
as he gets close to what he knows to be ‘the ceiling’ of this world, he smells it again.
grapeseed oil.
burt’s bees.
but this time, she really does appear.
she walks slowly from the nameless darkness, her soft features entering into focus. she had no smile, and her face showed no potential of a smile.
”i know you think you know the way out of here.”
he falls to his knees and wants to cry.
”this is my place. i’m sorry it’s been so hard on you.”
he begins crying.
”the way out is not where you think it is.
it’s through ithaca.”
he doesn’t even know what to say, he’s barely even listening. he hasn’t seen her in years.
”you know where i’m talking about.
go to the gorge and get the thing at the bottom of it. it’s a book. you know the book i’m talking about.
open it, and you’ll get out of here.”
he looks up at her and really tries to look her in the eyes.
”don’t say you love me.”
she walks away into the darkness.