Here I am on an island. Surrounded by mirrors... alternate places, filled with the same items, only different circumstances. While comfort has lasted for 19 years on this island the time has come.
I just built a raft.. And set sail from this island. God helps me steer, and feeds me. The dark is pervading around me, but most of all there is silence. Ear shattering silence. I travel with the hope of reaching one of these mirrored worlds. For the meantime I have become complacent that I will be on this raft for a long time. Alone. Save for God. All is as God wills it.
The silence is dreadful. I don't speak for fear of my own voice. If only there was someone here with me. I suppose that's the point, there isn't. Crushing dark, alone, cold, wet, famished, exhausted, panting, worn out, sick, beaten, deserted. I did not choose this. Not on a conscious level.
Bring me a branch to show me land is near. Help me forget the calls from behind. They lure me back to pain when I travel to a new world.
The tasks are piled on high. Do this do that, prove this, learn that. Like sweatshop workers outputting copies with tiny imperfections. Everyone has done this. Why can't I? It should be so simple. Nothing is given to someone that can not endure it.
That is why, for now, I travel on my raft.
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