01 Feb The Pier
One foot in front of the other, He walked slowly across the worn, wooden pier, Endless miles of eerily dark ocean ahead of him. Where was he going? To the edge of the world, or so it seemed. The long plank extended as far as the eye could see. It wasn’t possible; Yet, here he was, walking so steadily toward nothingness Was it a metaphor for the meaninglessness of human life? No. Nor was it a commentary on how existence was perpetual. He was just walking. Walking to move forward, walking to see what was ahead, though he already knew the answer. Cool winds played upon his skin, But his dull eyes never left the horizon. An eternally gray sky in a cloudless wonder, And his lips never felt the pull of a smile. Would it be forever, or was there an end? Unanswered questions were of no use to him. Blankness. Empty space. Nullity. The thought of having no thoughts was salvation. Salt stung his nose and waves rocked the structure. He swayed back and forth with the currents, And he felt the feeling of vacancy infinitely. He took that feeling, or lack of feeling, with him. What was left of his slow-beating heart clung onto nonexistence as the wood ahead began to snap. The waves overtook the spent planks and they collapsed on top of one another. His eyes saw the path in front of him fall into the void. His feet kept hitting the wooden planks at the same speed. His skin was kissed by the breeze, And his lips were sealed like his fate. The end drew nearer, But his steps failed to cease. The approaching brink beckoned and he obliged without a word. He took the final step over the edge and plummeted into the oblivion. Why was he walking? Close your eyes. Feel the wind and breathe in the tasteless air. Let the salt tickle your nose and follow the sway of the waves. Now look at the horizon, and don’t ever turn back.