Void. He thought that everyone had a concept of nothingness, yet they keep describing it with things which are instead of the things which aren't. As it is the lack of everything, their brain immediately fills that gap with something. Most people, he contemplated, picture the stars in darkness, or the hazy surface of water from below. The more senses they involve, the better the description is, but that is not emptiness, it's the opposite of it. He thought it was not about what he felt but what he thought. Or, to be more precise, what the Void made him feel. He was neither lost or trapped, nor was he free. Still, he felt he existed. He played with the notion of how to describe a memory without any of the senses. So if he didn't see or hear something, he didn't even remember feeling it, but he remembered that it was an experience worth not forgetting. He remembered wanting to do more, being inspired, held above all there was and owning his soul. It was the memory of his soul, a conscience wanting to express itself. Suddenly he had so much to say but he had no mouth to talk and there was no language to begin with. "There it is" he concluded without actually saying it, "our existence is nothing more than external and internal impressions." He formed these thoughts without the use of words, but later he was able to grasp these again and he knew they sounded like that. It was slow, but it happened in a blink of an eye. It only happened to be a blink that lasted forever. This was his next observation about non-existence. But he had 'time' to think about it. He then returned to the memory once more. What was it? A droplet of electricity which created turbulent waves towering above everything and washing through the mind. It was powerful, it was also predetermined and played out the same way every time. It was perfect harmony broken into threads of chaos, resonance of repeating patterns not letting him go. What else was there about it? It was wild yet controlled. A burst of Serenity disguised as Disturbance dancing with Sorrow dressed in long days of the past. A cry for Love but not to someone: they are flying away, birds under the ocean where clouds are made of stars and the soaring monster of Time devours a glass dome reflecting distance between the tip of a needle and the Universe. They all bow and he is the one rising with speeds unimaginable. He smiles, but not with a face, only within. He smiles inside with real joy and then he wakes.
He is still nothing, but the memory expired. The dream ended how it began. The music was gone and his thoughts dissolved in the pool of blank anesthesia. He relaxed his soul and started to focus on something else. This time they were images, blinking in for a second. He saw the sky, it was red. He saw the ocean shore where a giant machine fell. He saw a forest where poles led cables above the canopy. "Have I been here?" He asked without asking. "Alone?" Why does that even matter? "I wish not to be alone." But he was alone and without even the understanding of companionship. "I know what that is'' he argued "I know what I want. I have needs" he exhaled in anger. "I have rights!" He screamed and the scream turned into bubbles and flew up from him. He was weak and now sounds were pouring into his skull. He heard water flowing. He heard people talking, a crowd. He heard the wind in the desert rolling sand. "I know where this is" he pointed out and before he could form the next question he shuddered. It was Pain. The Goddess of Being herself: Pain has returned. She was a slayer of the melancholic train of thoughts which never reached their destination. She stood there as a reminder, caressing his soul with a soft voice made of blades "You have a body." She said.
He withered in joy from the shocking sting as his skin burned around him and stretched from his head to toe. He moved, because he had limbs and now everything hurt. Pain has always returned, the only true companion and one he missed in the Void so much. Pain, his beloved mistress played new symphonies on his nerves while his body reached its final form. Pain.
Awakened, the first he ever felt in his life was suffocation. Thick liquid pouring into his lungs, filling it with razor sharp flames. His eyes popped wide open to stare into nothingness. The light was painful and it was filtered through a bright orange fluid. His arms now made the first movement, his shoulders hurt for the uncontrolled slashing around him. His numb fingers grabbed something which led to his face, to his mouth. He pulled on it and finally elevated to the surface. He tried to breathe.
