It was quite an interesting summit. I was, once again, absolutely marveled at the oddity of social convention, the passage of time, and the need for interaction with other people. I didn't want to ever leave my house. I was far more comfortable retracted from the outside world, from anyone who might be out there. It wasn't so much my fear of other people, but my fear of being judged. As much as it disgusts me, I spend a considerable amount of time fussing over what other people think. It was one of the first times in my life I wanted to disappear. I didn't fancy to exist in the present moment, or the past, or in the future. I felt unquestionably no ambition tying me to the ground. The ticking of the clock above my bed seemed completely meaningless now, as time leisurely melted away with my psyche and lost all fundamental meaning. I felt absolutely no will to be myself, or anyone else for that matter. It was in times like these that I truly began to question the manifestation of Wednesday, the concept, the idea, sometimes the person, and what it all meant to myself. It was in these rare moments of total clarity yet total lack of purpose that I was able to accurately judge and analyze my internal inclination. Only the most private and vulnerable of my thoughts would come out at this time.I reminisced of Wednesday a lot. Wednesday was far from a person now. It had slowly drifted away from the girl of my dreams, then closer to myself, and then closer to my own philosophy. I no longer saw Wednesday as part of me, but a concept which I was not yet able to visualize, let alone speak of due to linguistic barriers. There was a dream which I had the other evening, which had been far more striking than any other dream I had in a long while.It was an exhibition unlike any other which had been witnessed by my humble eyes. I stood in front of a great building, to say the least. My vision was cloudy and there was feeling in my stomach which I just couldn't conceptualize. The entire structure before me seemed to have been birthed from the abysses of the earth; standing with an efficaciously sturdy yet heavenly pose. It seemed to go on for miles, the eye never quite being able to adjust to the horizon. The floor, perhaps the most simplistic element of the structure, could not be grasped. It was visible yet unfathomable, the barrier of language preventing any description of the platform in its totality. It felt tranquil. It radiated composure and wisdom, like that of an old gnarly spruce tree. Far on the horizon, a massive pillar of brilliant white stone rose from the floor. Due to the lack of scenery, it was impossible to tell if it was the size of a strong tree or the size of a skyscraper. It seemed completely unattainable, too far to touch, yet too close for comfort. It's absolute immensity and contrast to the bareness of the rest of the structure cast a looming and ominous vibration upon my omniscient presence. At the top of the pillar, it seemed to branch off into many different strands in the way a tree forks. These branches of stone seemed to continue onward for miles before they finally dropped and curved, creating a vast dome around the pillar. Looking beyond the branches, one could see only grey sky. From these massive branches of stone, vines fell, and light appeared to dance and flutter from within their shrubbery, but only while out of focus of the eye. Time did not exist in this place. It was the beginning of the end, the place which had been here before all others, and the place which would still be here long after the end of everything else. There was a figure standing within the structure. His face was dark and his silhouette was insignificant against the vastness of the universe. The figure stood there and continued to stand there, free from the chains of time, free from the expectations of man, and free from the questions of reason. He did not wonder, reflect, or anger. As he stood there without time, he did not become fearful. For all we can measure in, he did not exist. That was where I ached to be. I wanted to feel just as that man in my dream: completely liberated from anything I'd ever seen. As I lay on my bed watching the ceiling, my vision gently began to melt. The scarce beams of sunshine which escaped the shutters and flooded into my room gradually began to revolve in circles, and the rise and fall of my breath appeared to cease. It would be a while.
