He looked through the hole in the wall. He didn't really expect to see anything. That's why he was surprised to see a darkness streaming through. Hmmmm that can't be right, he thought. Darkness doesn't stream through. But there was no other way to describe it. Previously, all his encounters with darkness had been of a more passive nature: darkness was merely the absence of light. Hitherto. This time it was different. It was like vapour. No, that can't be right either, he thought. He was confused. Which was good because the next moment he was touched by it. The most over-populated state was the state of confusion, he had just this small fragment of a hazy thought before he changed. The boy awoke. He was lying in bed. He wasn't even sure if he had been dreaming. Am I dreaming still? Or am I awake now, he wondered sliently. He pinched himself to check. Why do people do that? Will pinching yourself wake you up? The boy went to school. Found everything changed
Party to conversation, party to experience. See what I did there? Of course you didn't. Or maybe you did. It doesn't matter either way does it? Because, the pleasure lies in the experience and not the description. That always struck me as rather odd. Because the description, or rather the action: narration or reading, are both experiences. Enter valuation. Valuation. Value. Values. Odd aren't they? These words that are mere abstractions of one of the oldest experiences: prioritization. Oldest? Hmmm.... Rather odd isn't it? Let me explain: The First Birth The act of physically coming into existence. Droll isn't it? The Second Birth: Awakening You now realize that you are alive. Being alive NOW automatically means (not so automatically, if you get what I mean; *cough* Egyptians *cough*) that you'll be dead at some point in time. Note that I don't use point of time. Such a coarse expression isn't it? Point of time. As if Time could own or claim o