I’m at the bottom of a very large hole. Right at the very bottom… so far down that I can’t be seen. In fact, I’m that far down, I can’t see anything either. I can’t hear anything. I can’t even think of anything.
There’s only me in this place. This void. This darkness.
I speak, but there’s no sound – yet the silence has an echo. The silence is as deafening as the darkness is blinding. My thoughts cut sharply through the silence to start off with, and are then absorbed by it. They blend into it. They dissolve.
When I blink, the darkness appears darker, but then, this darkness too becomes part of the surrounding darkness. Am I imagining the darker moments, or are they real?
My breathing is amplified. Well, momentarily, to me anyway. My heart is pounding in my chest. Well, I can hear it. I can feel it. I can feel the rhythm. Breathing and beating, simultaneous and yet separate at the same time.
I feel warm, yet it is cold. The darkness is cold. Unfriendly. Barren.
I need to fill this darkness, this emptiness, with something. But there is nothing. No inspiration. No ideas…
Maybe the darkness will clear soon. Thoughts will come flowing in. Flooding in. Words will replace the darkness, replace the silence, replace the empty space. Soon, but not now.
It’s odd being in this hole. At least I’ve managed to create something from all of the nothingness… once again…
The Mansionic Perspective 
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