Insightful Rantings #1

 The Mind Sea becomes mist; wading becomes falling. Logic falls away, its stead taken by a raw, formless yet folded power, something more intricate than any could hope to achieve, more base than any could dare to comprehend. With high waters long forgotten, the fog falls upward, the light now so weak, so mixed with darkness as to disallow any rational vision. The Abyss closes in, shrouding any escape and making all odd thoughts the forefront of a breaking wave.

In this otherworldly domain, where one falls up and not down, and where the dark-cloaked water is so cold and so thin in texture and adhesion as to inspire thoughts of complete darkness, almost as that of the space between planets, there can be no movement, no progress. There can be no reflection, for where does the water end, and where the light show an image, and where does the thought to see such a thing persist? There can be no time, for where is the sun in such a stricken place?

But, look and see--is that light produced not by the weak sun, piercing so shallowly, but by some transcendental force, roving through the local black Deeps? Progress is impossible, yes--but perhaps it is reasonable for one to gain instinct, raw insight, in such an Abyss. The soul may be scraped and bent and broken, but with the help of another, such a thing as recovery may be more than a dream. Improvement may be impossible, but wherefore good health, when such profound vision is given? Besides, the effects of such a travel may be more than simply beneficial or detrimental.

For in that place, where the leviathans roam, insight extends beyond frames of thought. The mind can be cracked, but such cracks allow the dark paints, the lights, and the deep blues to bleed through.