NaNoWriMo POTD
Sep. 22nd, 2004 10:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
artyartieTopic: Cave
A/N: Specifically related to my intended NaNo work.
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Many times, she has wondered what it would be like to be one of the people in the cave, glimpsing the shadows cast on the walls and thinking them to be the essence of reality.
She knows the shadows are merely illusion, she knows the light is merely ambient energy wishing it was something more impressive and lethal, such as gamma rays. She can sense the passage of time and water that has formed the cave. She feels the limestone singing in her blood. She can't imagine any other existence besides this - aware of the universe around and within her down to the last quark - but it doesn't stop her from wondering.
Sympathetically, she thinks that the division of power that bestowed the Arts only upon a rare few has hurt the universe more than it has helped it, and that ordinary humans would feel so much less despair and hatred if they could see and feel the whole of creation. If they could know, truly and deeply know, that they never were alone, that it was impossible to be so.
And then she thinks back, on times that even in the midst of creation's song she has felt aimless and lonely, and wonders what difference it makes at all.
A/N: Specifically related to my intended NaNo work.
****
Many times, she has wondered what it would be like to be one of the people in the cave, glimpsing the shadows cast on the walls and thinking them to be the essence of reality.
She knows the shadows are merely illusion, she knows the light is merely ambient energy wishing it was something more impressive and lethal, such as gamma rays. She can sense the passage of time and water that has formed the cave. She feels the limestone singing in her blood. She can't imagine any other existence besides this - aware of the universe around and within her down to the last quark - but it doesn't stop her from wondering.
Sympathetically, she thinks that the division of power that bestowed the Arts only upon a rare few has hurt the universe more than it has helped it, and that ordinary humans would feel so much less despair and hatred if they could see and feel the whole of creation. If they could know, truly and deeply know, that they never were alone, that it was impossible to be so.
And then she thinks back, on times that even in the midst of creation's song she has felt aimless and lonely, and wonders what difference it makes at all.
