Ramblings

#6

You are in a fountain, a deep fountain. It's deep enough just so you can see a singular shred of light, deep enough to know there's no simple way up. The walls appear of diamond to you. There, you find a knife. As you search the ground, the walls start cramming. You take the knife and start carving a way up, but there's no hope, you can't carve into something this dense. One might begin to question the nature of assistance offered by the knife, even wonder: do I use this knife as a tool to survive or end my suffering? Either way, it is seen as salvation, is it not? One might think of this in many ways, as to come up a reasonable and worthy endeavor of sorting out the misfortune at hand: what lies below your feet? Why do you think the walls are diamond? I didn't tell you, you thought of it on your own. Why do you think the walls are cramming and who said you can't fly? Last, but not least, why do you see the tool as a knife? Do you know who you are? Do you know where you are? Do you know what has happened to you? It is only after the levels of stress hormones have decreased that you may feel the fright, the terror and all the pain...