Here in this whiteness there are no walls, no doors, no edges. There is a place for your feet to walk across, and nothing else. There is no sky, no ends, no lines, no beginnings, just vacuum. It is impermeable, colorless.

Do you know where you are? This is infinity, you child – an indefinable point on the timeline of forever. And you are here too.

Now stop reading and look to your left.

Yes. You. Until your mind is as empty as the White Infinite, look to your left.

Now, think of the vastest of distances you can imagine: believe in your core that you can fall upward from the world's greatest heights, and that you will keep falling up at terminal velocity. Know that you will fly, fall, speed, float, move forever – alone.

Your thoughts – in their infinite loop – become your only embrace, and motion becomes nothing but a silver, wispy dream.

Tear your eyes from this screen. Look left.

Yes. You. Look left.

Look left until you learn the silent, rhythmless mantra of forever – the unkind murderer of the conscious.

Look left for a lifetime.

And for another.

And for another.

Look left, and look alone, for uncountable lifetimes. And then do it again.

Look left as the same thoughts enter and exit your mind, the same white, empty thoughts.

This is outside your comfort zone – I know, but there's no mercy for you either.

This is a venture of loss, of ungainly void, of incomprehensible lack.

This is the beginning of your lonely infinity.

It's death, child.


For the RG's April 2011 WCC.