PW: Climb
From Create Your Own Story
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Out of the will of your discovery rather than the will of your body: you discover firm footing once you've grabbed a higher part of reasonable rock-teeth. Your feet slither uncomfortably on the new-found snake-consistency platform . | Out of the will of your discovery rather than the will of your body: you discover firm footing once you've grabbed a higher part of reasonable rock-teeth. Your feet slither uncomfortably on the new-found snake-consistency platform . | ||
- | No longer willing any of that purple abyss: you jump up and what you find | + | No longer willing any of that purple abyss: you jump up and what you find in your hands continues to be something that has negligible density for much longer than you'd hope; your back that is arching backwards, and your thoughts, which whistle uncontrollably, have now absconded from your head. You wonder if you too can have such freedom from what comes next, but you feel that it may be too triumphant for an earth-giver and earth-receiver to abscond from yourself in any other form than a burial. |
Your qualms end briefly once you clasp a chunk of foliage. In the adrenalin of the moment: you manage to pull yourself up, and station yourself, legs to torso, absolutely exhausted. | Your qualms end briefly once you clasp a chunk of foliage. In the adrenalin of the moment: you manage to pull yourself up, and station yourself, legs to torso, absolutely exhausted. |
Revision as of 06:57, 13 August 2016
Bounding up, you haphazardly grip one of the outplayed stones. You feel your body extend as the gravity tries to lower you. Quaking under the pressure slightly and touching the doused end of an abrasive knife: you venerate your hand as it struggles to heights.
This fluctuation of upward and downward distorts depth-perception as if you were in a typhoon. Your hand crackles with pins and needles and you can feel only parts of its conciousness temporarily activating and then ludicrously expunging.
Out of the will of your discovery rather than the will of your body: you discover firm footing once you've grabbed a higher part of reasonable rock-teeth. Your feet slither uncomfortably on the new-found snake-consistency platform .
No longer willing any of that purple abyss: you jump up and what you find in your hands continues to be something that has negligible density for much longer than you'd hope; your back that is arching backwards, and your thoughts, which whistle uncontrollably, have now absconded from your head. You wonder if you too can have such freedom from what comes next, but you feel that it may be too triumphant for an earth-giver and earth-receiver to abscond from yourself in any other form than a burial.
Your qualms end briefly once you clasp a chunk of foliage. In the adrenalin of the moment: you manage to pull yourself up, and station yourself, legs to torso, absolutely exhausted.
A sign stands before you, and imposes it's values like a crown. In the distance: trees whose dew dances in this bluest and for you most valiant of days sparkles and extinguishes like a Christmas tree gather in one unorthodox orchard.
Do you: