IX: Under Ether

Can't organise my thoughts well enough, so another project gets sent into purgatory. May or may not be salvaged.

The darkness recedes once more, returning me to the more welcoming waters of emotional laudanum. In this waking sleep nothing can pierce through. The minor problem that is the absence of any meaning or worth in my life no longer pains me. The world may die, and still I dream. Thoughts are fragmented, transitory things, forming no greater mosaic, just the mind flipping through channels, some comforting, some disturbed.

Another star in this ever-darkening void winked out several days ago, with no light to replace it. Some who had taken notice of the distant sun mourned the passing. Most trudged onwards, oblivious, face down. Is there a lesson in this? Will it matter if there is? I don't really know. And before too long, whether I like it or not, I won't care either. Other lights shall dim in due time.

Farewell, Petrus.