Muse - Explorers

We thought our little house with that lemon tree would be our sanctuary.

We were wrong.

The epidemic was growing like weeds covered with grey dust blowing along with them. This was not an apocalypse. This was a post-apocalypse. It was dark and these grey dust was everywhere, by everywhere I meant in the air, in our house, it covered our lamps that the light was too dim. It was even in our lungs.

So we were heading south to the cape, we thought we could settle down at the end of the cliff, that was our last destination. We lived in an old lighthouse. It was decommissioned long before the epidemic of depression. I was dreaming of waking up every morning to see a glistened bright and blue in both upper and lower part of the horizon.

We were wrong again.

It was a silly hope to live there. The crops died, along with all the animals in the farm. We turned the clock back to Paleolithic; we hunted and scavenged.

When the last wild animal was gone, we were the last group in the far south. There was no where to run. We neither had a ship nor we could build a raft.

So we thought this was the end

We ended it. 

We sent ourselves from the cliff to under the ocean.

Sleeping At Last - Neptune

When I was jumping from that cliff, the theory of gravitational time dilation was the first thing popped in my head. The longer the time passes, the greater the gravity.

Up on the cliff, I only thought of the end of the world. I thought I had been through so much in this short period of time after the apocalypse had happened, but it felt like this life was my whole life. The nearer I was falling to hit the ocean the time grew slower. 

It was like my whole life I had had before I jumped was so far away. My life back then was such a short period of time, like it was further and farther from this moment, like after the apocalypse, I had been living my life hundreds year after the life before the epidemic of depression. Time had been running faster back then when I was far from the gravity that was pulling me from the bottom of this ocean. I didn’t even need an atomic clock to tell how fast I had lived my life.

The distance between the top of the cliff and the ocean was not as far as the distance between the town to the lighthouse, yet this period of time I spent falling was longer than any phase of my life. When I decided to jump, the force that was pulling me by this ocean must be magnificent.

I had a fucking long moment here when I was falling, I started to contemplate my decision. I saw my mate passing me before my eyes. So he might not really want to jump as much as me. I felt guilty. I made him jump with me. His destination was not here. This was not his destination.

It was my fault. My mate hit the pale blue ocean before my eyes and the sky was white at the horizon.

Sleeping At Last - Saturn

We were floating, up in the sky. I could see an ocean down there. Our bodies were like something between balloons and bubbles, our skins turned into surface tension soap that made of sea. We looked like snow globes, instead of landmark of some cities, there were our memories.

Keaton Henson - Corpse Roads

The scariest thing of dying, for me it was being alone after death, not dying alone. How could I know I was not going to spend infinite time in life after death with the person I hate the most in my life; myself. Could people commit a suicide from life after death if they got bored? I might look like a snow globe from the outside, floating under the sun over the sea, but no, it was dark looking from the inside. I was surrounded by a swarm of despair that looked just like thousands of flies in the midnight on the summer solstice.

"Adieu" // HITRECORD ON TV episode 5 RE: THE OTHER SIDE

I thought this might be hell, the kind that designed for someone who couldn’t sit still more than 5 minutes. I lived in a cave, in my life after death. I was alone as I expected, lying on the floor. I was not be able to move, looking at stalactites hanging from the ceiling, so low they were best friends of my nose. The floor of this cave was covered with sand. I didn’t know if it’s gold or black. I couldn’t turn my head to look at it, but I hoped it would be light brown because it smelled like butter scotch.

I have been laying here since the stalactites were just my neighbours, I only waved at them when I was bored. Now I could say they were my roommates. Please do not try to calculate how long I had been here. It would ruin my hope and patience, if I knew how long does it take to grow for another 10 centimetres. (Fine, it’s 198,223 years.) I have been waiting for the stone to pierce through my nose. So I shall be free.

Hi, I'm still here.

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