I once had a conversation with someone
He talked to me of those twilight hours
Those times when your mind is on fire
Those times when you can't sleep because the creative and analytical possibilities before you are endless
He said those are the times he wants to write
I understood him but I was also flabbergasted
I couldn't comprehend his unabashed enthusiasm
It was as if he didn't know the other side of that
The other side I find to be so intrinsically attached to those moments when your mind becomes a rocket
No words
No big bang
No big bang
No big bang
No
Big
Bang
I get the exhilaration but when you look down and see the sheer stupidity of the roller coaster just staring you in the face as blank and inescapable as the slab of concrete below
Just waiting to catch you, to crush you, your falling body, your skull
All of the sudden all of the science and evolution and progress
I mean sure, it looks good from a distance but when you're really inside of it you realize it's fucking terrifying
The inexorable pull of "progress," when your mind keeps running along the same narrow tract of logic for what feels like forever and the developments are horrible and gruesome and haunting and you mind won't stop and they're there
And you can't unseen them
How could one not be scared of that?
No crash
No big bang
No big bang
No big bang
No
Big
Bang
Oh, I know those times
Those times when your mind is a rocket propelling you through space so fast but it can flip all at once
Suddenly I realize the rocket is just a prison
A small contained space with no real food, no companionship, no time passing, no gravity
Just the weight of my own insignificance, my foolishness, and my hubris thrust into the glaring light that is the sun but much much closer than it was before, and all I want is to die
Not so much die as be undone, to go back and undo it all
Make all of me as if it never happened in the first place
No birth
No big bang
No big bang
No big bang
No
Big
Bang