another day of me discussing dreams and purpose
And what a purpose it is. I was supposing earlier that perhaps this newfound attitude of mine is entirely due to the hospital stay. A month at any place should change your life, and as it happens mine was in a hospital bed. I can't say I enjoy hospitals though, now that I've finally experienced one in all its glory. They just don't feel right to me. Certainly there is a plethora of good work done there, and such; however it just feels improper, if that's the right term. It makes me wonder if there is a better way to do things to sustain life. Maybe I already 'know'?
A wisp of smoke spoke to me as well. He didn't seem the type to chat, instead keeping himself very stoic in all regards. He showed me a world splintering, cracking open as radiant energy poured out, before the world's very existence was sundered. While the wisp was vaguely humanoid, I do believe it pointed at me, as if I were the very root of this issue at hand. How could I be? Did I not have the secret to inter-connectivity within the palm of my hand? Did I not trudge the endless wastes of oblivion, will myself to die, ascend to godhood, create the beasts of the land? Did I not know Life itself? What did this errant smoke know that I did not?
And then it spoke! I struggled to remember the words, but not so long ago, in a not so long entry, on a not so famous day I remembered finally.
It said I needed to die.
Until that day, Call Me Nil.