Counting my souls.

Published July 31, 2010 by ABadKitten
In this darkness I sit in solitude, humming a little tune to break the silence. No life besides mine dwells in this place, if that’s what you want to call what I possess: a life. Personally, that’s not what I would classify it as, but that is a curiosity behind me a few million millennia. As in, a waste of my not-so-precious precious time.

 

Five-thousand-four-hundred-sixty-eight…

My darkness is my kindred, my solitude my shelter. Darker than “too dark” for any living thing to bear is where I sit, humming my tune in order to keep the silence away. Long periods of silence could drive even the most sane of the sane mad. It’s pertinent that I keep it at bay.

Five-thousand-nine-hundred-twenty-one…

To say that this is a futile effort, this little job of mine, is as silly as to say the you know anything of the creation of existence. Existence is something far beyond the comprehension of anything in existence, anything that has yet to be. Existence is the only thing keeping me busy. In an ironic way, perhaps, since it’s the nonexistence of your existence that I am here awaiting.

Six-thousand-two-hundred-eleven…

Ah, another three hundred have slipped away in the past millisecond. The only reason I bother with the very flawed concept of “time” you have created is to give myself something to look forward to. Do you know how many more I get to add to my collection after your perceived hour?

Six-thousand-nine-hundred-sixty-nine…

The faint whispers web together, creating the perfect melody for me to hum along to whilst I sit in my darkness, in my solitude. I like to keep them in small counts of ten-thousands. Sectioned off from each other for my amusement. Some are collected together, some are separated. Some seek out another in which case I get to decide between cruelty or compassion–something I apparently lack. Seekers will never be satiated.

Seven-thousand-four-hundred-seventy-eight…

Perhaps that’s why I am so painstakingly alone.

Seven-thousand-seven-hundred-twenty-four…

Although, in all reality…

Eight-thousand-four-hundred-nine…

I’ll never be alone…

Eight-thousand-seven-hundred-twenty-three…

Not with my never-ending collection with that ability…

Eight-thousand-nine-hundred-seven…

That miraculous ability…

Nine-thousand-three-hundred-ninety-six…

One that I’ve envied since the moment of my creation. You take it for granted, you do. You don’t even understand it…the good fortune you have in it.

Nine-thousand-five-hundred-seventy-four…

That ability…

Nine-thousand-seven-hundred-twenty-two…

That miraculous ability…

Nine-thousand-eight-hundred-ninety-nine…

To be so deliciously non-existent.

Ten-thousand.


Advertisements

24 comments on “Counting my souls.

  • The faint whispers web together, creating the perfect melody for me to hum along to whilst I sit in my darkness, in my solitude. I like to keep them in small counts of ten-thousands. Sectioned off from each other for my amusement. Some are collected together, some are separated. Some seek out another in which case I get to decide between cruelty or compassion–something I apparently lack. Seekers will never be satiated.That was my favorite part. Great piece!

  • @m_kabs – Oooh, interesting. ;3 I can see that for sure. When I wrote it, I was picturing a semi-transparent wisp of a person, cloaked in smoke. There was also the hood of the Grim Reaper which hid the face in total blackness while the spindle-like fingers collected each soul, placing them inside a pouch. A pouch like one would keep marbles in. :B How I could see all this, I have no idea…since he’s in complete and utter darkness. xD

  • @m_kabs – Truth in the matter is…I just Googled it, too. I haven’t had an English class in two years. I fact that I’m going to be having one this fall semester is extremely comforting…and very much needed. xD;

  • Leave a Reply

    Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

    WordPress.com Logo

    You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

    Twitter picture

    You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

    Facebook photo

    You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

    Google+ photo

    You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

    Connecting to %s

    %d bloggers like this: