• a.p. duvall

Golgatha in 25 km.

Twas 14th century China, and I was perched on my village's highest defense wall, looking out into the heavens on this one particular summer evening, when it happened to me. I was concentrating a particular beautiful constellation and in the exact instant before I blinked an incredibly golden and azure colored dragonfly, or maybe shooting star burned across the sky, then I blinked.

When my eyes opened, there was nothing beautiful in the sky.

Each star black. Only the entirety of the moon's face remained, flooding the night with it's radiant purity. I felt levitated within my own body, and I felt as if I were both being stretched by the Emperor's horses, and also shrinking to an incredibly tiny height of that of a sugar ant! My ancestors called my name and then they began to shout all my outstanding trespasses against the golden rules of the Universe and I began to curse them, curse them and their golden rules, and that it was only I who could possibly find the truth to the Way.

No, I was not their pawn, I was Freedom incarnate, and prepared to wreak havoc, as if I were all of the caged Titans freed to rape and plunder Zeus' fields and those under his protection and house. It would be them who would be standing at Judgment being branded by the law of justice as sheep, and their throats will be ripped from them, making them useless, allowing them only to speak, "Bah-bah Bah-bah" for all eternity.

And then all of that. All that love for freedom and emancipation and the declaration of liberation and stimulation, was gone. With the wind, with the jazz, and for the love of all the things that I ever gave a damn about. Great apathy struck and took root, and I felt deep in my bones that the World, and the Way, and the Universe, was all a useless lie.

A dead weight around our necks as we swim out further and further into the seas of truth and oceans of love and liberty. There was no infinite conscious being watching, or guiding, or creating, or destroying.

There was only coincidence, and luck. And once that sunk in, it took, and never left.


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© 2020 by a.p. duvall.
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