OST 1: Again. Feel free to loop :)
OST 1: Again. Feel free to loop :)
The abhorrent, vile substance is paradoxical in nature: covering every inch of surface while bubbling to an erratic rhythm of varying tempo so as to obscure the true extent of the cave’s capacity. Each equally insulting and sickly hue of purple, pink and lime shimmers in its own dubiously artificial emanating light : becoming an only source of illumination in this uncomfortably luke warm, damp, humid cavern. I hang from a ceiling I can’t see by one left ankle bandage - my one right ankle up right to maintain some semblance of balance. Again, I relax and sink to the ground to lay in puddles. Again, I think. Again, I sleep. Again, I tense up to rise and balance up-right again. Again : it is cyclical. Again: It is repetitive. Again: It happens all over again. Again, every increment of time is wasted on nothing. I can’t really help it, so is it really ‘wasting’? It’s not like I can leave yet. I can only wait.
She’s been here for as long as she can remember. It’s a simple explanation. As a dedicated adventurer and mage, she cast a ‘last resort’ sort of spell when her comrades needed it. For all its worth, you could spend energy to calculate another way things could have happened - but take my word for it: this was the only outcome. For such a powerful spell that saved the day, the cost was an unfathomable amount of time here. This is a pain felt without avail, and with no guilt.
At first I was angry. But this is really the happy ending. There’s nothing wrong with any part of any of this. It’s just very long. Very very long indeed.
I used to fear running out of time before coming here. Each second of my life was a currency spent. I now see this currency as unique - no form of income or interest. It doesn’t run out no matter how much I spend. I cannot opt out, forced to interpret every stimulus my brain could possibly ascertain as a degree of time.
I cannot be angry as I have accepted there is no guilt in partaking in waiting - nothing is being wasted, afterall. I can’t stop my supply from dripping, trickling, and fading away. I have nothing to hold on and clutch to. Nothing to value or protect - it has already all been saved. (Those she loved.)
She never let go. Though there is no longer any input : No longer attaining joy from hearing their laughter; Achievement from their approval ; Belonging from the spaced saved for her; There is output. These feelings she can no longer receive, she maintains the ability to give. For this reason, she lost nothing in the casting of this spell. Lost no value. Not having anything to let go of, there was no fear.
She maintains no fear or guilt : No sadness or anger. So what is the source of the inescapable negativity of this feeling trapped in here time and time over and again while waiting for time to be up? Perhaps the word waiting inherently insinuates there's something missing. Waiting means spending and losing to no end. With no gaining. No giving.