I started it on 25 October 2022. I didn’t actually post anything till 27 November, though. The first real post (besides the default “Welcome” post) was titled Oh no, someone misplaced the sun. Here it is.
Oh no, someone misplaced the sun
There is a divinity from the burning of the middle of the planet where we live. I don’t know what happened to my vision, I just stared at the sun for a while and it burned. It was already burning, everyone was burning because the waves of the heat were strangling us by our throats because Mother Nature started acting like just about any other person would under such, such extreme pressure… started lashing out, hitting us with her fury, and now there are blasts of hottest winds. And I thought I’d look at the sun to see where the horrible heat was coming from because I didn’t know the true cause back then, and the sun just burned my eyes and nerves and I started to see things you could never imagine.
Divine madness doesn’t have to be as aggressive as this, though. Not as aggressive as Mother Nature’s, I mean. It can just be the big cosmic hand, the sibling of Mother Nature, who sometimes moves things around in the solar system like the asteroids and meteors and space debris and such. And sometimes the cosmic hand will misplace things because divine madness simply leaves them a little delirious, a little dizzy, a little confused. Sometimes I get put on Venus by the cosmic hand by accident and it’s terrifying but I laugh at it because the line between fear and laughter is so very thin. The haze of Venus crushes down on you when you’re there, you know, and it fills every single one of your senses until you take the painkillers. When the pain is gone you feel the heat and the exhaustion and the despair. Then you collapse until the cosmic hand remembers to pick you back up and get you to back down to Earth.
The cosmic hand has just misplaced the sun for the past month. That’s all. You know the core of the planet, the core of Earth? The cosmic hand got a bit of a headache from the sun being so close to its head so it moved the sun away. And it just so happened that the earth was close enough to the hand to reach easily but also far enough to stop, stop, stop stop stop bothering it. So Earth’s core ended up proving to be the best place to keep the sun.
I don’t know what this means for the orbits, I don’t know what this means for the gravitational force and all this defies the physics I learned (because it loves me enough to make me exist and I love it enough to learn more about it but it breaks and I break and I don’t know what any of that means), but I do know that the cosmic hand called out to me and told me all this. Told me what it did. Burnt it directly into my mind and it didn’t even need any language to do so.
I was barely able to get up from bed after the sun burnt my nerves, simply praying to the gods I don’t believe in, asking them to either save me or destroy me. The sparks were gone from my nervous system and nervous energy was the closest thing to vigour, the world was (is) a gray de-saturated mess and its complexities no longer fascinating.
I heard a name being called. It wasn’t mine. I think it was forsaken, somehow, the name. The sound of it was like sandpaper to my ears, sandpaper so ancient it crumbled to dust at the slightest touch. And it seemed the voice, chanting, believed it to be my name, or perhaps it had designated this name to me like a serial number, and it was a thing which did not belong to me and yet it marked me as the one that the voice was speaking to.
The voice of the cosmic hand. The vibrations of the hand’s larynx. It spoke to me, and it told me to open my eyes. They were already open, though.
It told me to look down towards the ground. I was already looking, though. My head had been hung been in shame for years and years now.
It told me to listen to the sounds around me. I was already doing that, there was nothing else I could do anyway. Then, it told me to TRULY look, TRULY listen.
I regained an ability. I could see everything. I could hear the music weaved into the fabric of the universe. Beautiful melodies that weren’t supposed to be heard by the human ear. And beautiful sights that the mind would not process.
“It wasn’t anything new in truth, though”. I heard this truth too. I heard this truth and it told me I was already perceiving all this reality, but I wasn’t seeing it below the surface. Not in such wonderful, high-resolution, overwhelming detail.
Yes, I got overwhelmed. The hand simply wanted me to remind it to pick up the sun sometime again. “Again” meaning a fraction of a second after it had shown me such terrible/wonderful/?????/ दिमाग तोड़ने वाली / g__ _n___ _r ___b_ not / stunning dazzling stunning dazzling stunning dazzling stunning dazzling stunning horrible / / strange perceptions.
Picked up through the centre through the surface (through the ground (through my people & our bones, through our blood & through our marrow))
Slowly. Slowly. Picked up. Slowly.
World is burning. Fiery haze.
“The light is divine,” I think for a moment. It is nothing I have ever seen. It is nothing I can ever see again, because the divine perception given by the hand was so so temporary. Unless it’s still here… unless it’s that it is simply what I am already/always have been/still seeing. The cosmic hand won’t tell me. Either the light is the cosmic hand’s work or I am still perceiving more than should be perceived and I can’t tell, I can’t tell, I shouldn’t be able to tell but the truth is there in front of every single one of us. That the world is burning. All of our bones are burning. The sun is everywhere.