He just hung his head out of his cupboard and rested his chin on the heal of his right hand as he held his right elbow in his left hand, and sighed the resigned sigh of the contented dead as he looked down on his life.
His mind was cracked wide open and doors were constantly creaking open and slamming shut behind, or, rather, in front of the back of his head. He could feel all the pores on his face excitedly yawning and exhaling water vapor and could hear red cracks tensely spreading over the whites of his eyes.
The clock on the watchtower groaned midnight. His mind floated down into a moat of slathering slugs that licked all the rough stones as smooth as pearls.
His bloodstream was teaming with White and silver microphysical warriors that were loudly clashing with determined and spiteful maladies that grimaced and gurned with hideous creativity in their spirited, yet sluggish syrupy passion, a passion for putrefaction. It was the never ending, eternal struggle against entropy. Eternity always yanking at his heels through the creaking floorboards or the sensual green lawn, as it spitefully bled thin, clear sap through the countless millions of open cuts that had been inflicted on it during its last mowing.
A thousand tiny little voices whispered and whined constantly into his auditory canals, sending a gentle chill, a subtle thrill tightening across his skin and twisting all his little hairs end wise, causing them to russle and stand up as they gently waved in the warm breeze of the summer sunset.
He was high and dry and dehydrating at the foot of Heaven’s front porch as the flames of perdition viciously licked the callouses off his tired, ancient feet.
His bones felt brittle and his testicles ached, his skin was alive and squirming, his hands felt empty and hungry, his eyes were restless and insatiably curious. He was facing the infinite. His consciousness was dawning over the horizon of oblivion and eternity. He saw everything, he was bored with genesis yet had forgotten Armageddon and didn’t really care if he ever remembered it ever again. His eyes had ears and every cell in his body had a brain. He was so wide he could swallow the universe and hardly even feel it. His soul’s hunger was bottomless and aggressive.
“‘In the desert, you see, there’s everything and theres nothing…’ ‘But can’t you explain it to me?’, she said. ‘Well’, he went on, with a gesture of impatience, ‘its God without people'”
Loof Lirpa 