2024-06-05 - The Light Flickers

It happens occasionally that everything that is ceases to be. At first, this is accepted as everything else is. There is only cold and purposelessness and a feeling that isn't tangible enough to grasp. There is no want for anything else. This is, after all, all there is, has been, and ever will be.

Eventually, a pattern emerges. It becomes known that sometimes there is and sometimes there isn't. Eventually the isn't becomes a different form of is, different to the warmth but no less inevitable, no less encompassing, no less familiar. There is no telling when the warmth will return, but the pattern evolves to encompass when She will leave. There is no name to this feeling either - hunger is not known, not part of what is - but it becomes known through the imminent change in what defines what existence is made up of. There is no distress associated with it. It is just part of what is, like all things are. Unchangeable.