Falling

I fly through air, unable to tell how fast or how far. The air is thick with nothingness. I am unable to see. There is a misty darkness covering my eyes. Perhaps it is the fog that clouds my mind. But I am not worried, at least I tell myself. Yet, I can not ignore a voice that tells me I’m falling.

I can not see a bottom nor the top where I came from. I do not know this hole in a personal way, but I know it all the same. I would not listen to the warning given by the old and wise. I would not believe the tale told not so long ago or the lessons other had learned in time. No, I was to be the wiser one. So I continue to fall.

I came from a land of high. My people were of pure. We thought and felt only the best. Our egos were so hard. Only those who had fallen and somehow managed to rise gave out a cry of dire caution to us so young and bold. They told us of an endless bottom, a thought impossible to my deaf ears. How can one forever fall? I still do not know and can not feel any bottom as my body is rapidly falling.

I wonder about the bottom and if I should care. Falling is not so bad. One can do it forever. That’s if one can ignore the fear within. It is the fear that the old people told us with. It is the fear that tells me I need to head up. I need to rise. But I do not listen and allow myself to keep falling.

I fall and I fall, through a great black and evil nothingness, giving no thought as to where and why I am falling to. Once started, I can not stop. There is no point. I am falling from myself and never will I stop.