Stimulus!
Stimulus! That small spark that can initiate that chain of thought that keeps you from madness. Each link on the chain savoured for the moment for its beauty but also for the fear of non visibility of the next. And again till the end.
The end of the chain prescient either as the chain weakens leading to its gruesome death with the just the infamy of being some random thought in some crazy existence, no more bullet points at its epitaph, or as it strengthens bringing the loop to a close, still destined to be forgotten as the result takes the spotlight. And it detaches. It detaches and you, motionless not by your volition, see it float away into the vacuum of thought.
But nature does not like vacuum. It fills. It fills with the repetitive chain that you tried so hard to escape. Yes the same one, the tormentor from whom you had celebrated your freedom. But no rescue is permanent, you realise, as you fall back into the depth a familiar pit, whose only problem is that it’s just too familiar. But the chain is stronger as it has grown weaker in your absence, patiently lurking in the forbidden ally of your mind, waiting for you in its solitude. Should you now re-forge it with the very hand that first made it what it is or should you abandon it. But if only you had the choice.
So you lie near the forge furnace going through the motions, trapped, waiting for the next one to come along, to shackle you in its own length and hide you from the heat and fire of the furnace.
Will it end?
