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Snail Shells (14.0)

  I am not here. I did not die. You will not find me trapped in lies. Rather, in the stars of the night sky. The words found on Leon Miller's Grave, Feb 9th, 2030 to July 5th, 2052. The Library of Archived Minds Entry #788

  Entry #1

  It's dark, so unbelievably dark. But somehow, there is a shimmer in the dark. How is that possible? There should be nothing here. But there was a low rumbling purr that reverberated in this nothing. The vibrations felt nice.

  Metal, the smell of metal… how is it possible to smell something when I cannot feel anything? The things that I can feel are scattered, almost like every sense in my body doesn’t belong. For some reason, trying to recall my name seems impossible. I need to figure out who I am. It’s hard to tell what is real in this place. Time here seems to be stretched. Something is gripping me tightly, strangling me, but I do not understand it because I am without a physical body. I must get my body back. I am trying to picture my hand. I know what a hand is: ligaments, bones, flesh, muscles, blood, and cells all woven together. But it seems impossible to create.

  I came to the notion that I was none of these. Is it because I am a collection of particles? I could feel something pulling me; it felt sinister. I tried to resist, but resisting was painful. Particles pulling themselves apart. I eventually gave in, gravitating towards some origin. The rippling of darkness became embroiled with a hit of color. The color was stretching ever so slowly as it was being pulled towards something unknown. My mind had been expanded. How long had I been frozen? These questions were rushing through my head.

  In my head, I realized I could feel the blood rushing through my temple or some concept of it. The ripple of darkness began to rush past me, the colors becoming more and more distinct. The notion of discovering my name now seemed pointless in this absurdity. But another notion came to me, one that seemed to pierce through me. That I had had a beautiful death. A death that had changed gravity, tying strings together.

  I slammed into something hard, pain shooting through my nervous system. I was pleased by this, as of a couple of seconds ago, I did not have a nervous system. I let out a cough, orange particles flying into the space above my head. Whatever I was lying on was soft and dry. It felt like dust. None of this can be described by any visual means. No light seemed to originate from anywhere. But, somehow, I could see or feel something between this fabric of reality. When I went to look down at my hand, what I saw was not a hand but a cloud filled with millions of fireflies all buzzing about, at a heinous vibration.

  It did resemble a body, but one that I was unfamiliar with. It seemed to move at the slightest change in energy. It took an immeasurable amount of time before I could stand again. Something called out to me, muffled. It filled me with tremendous purpose. I controlled these vibrations as best as I could, willing them forward. The ground beneath what I can only contextualize as feet was smooth. Eventually, I could feel the ground rise as I began to climb a hill. This only made every step much more difficult, requiring more and more energy. I took a brief look down to see what I could only describe as my feet breaking apart into diffrent forms of matter before slowly reshaping into something that resembled feet. I felt inside me that I was close, but another feeling started to creep into my mind. One of immense inquenchable thirst, this place seemed to be without air, without food, and without water. It was a prison. I was deeply uncomfortable with this feeling. My walk came to a slow halt.

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  There was a flash of color up ahead, one that briefly illuminated my surroundings. Whatever Tomb I was in was vast and seemed to be rapidly expanding. I need to find shelter and harness this light.

  Entry #2

  For some reason, my sense of time has improved; it has been several days. My intuition is telling me it had been at least three. I have been able to find some shelter under something that resembles a canopy. It is dazzling in colors, many of which I do not understand. I have a feeling that there are other things here, even though it seems deserted. This canopy indicates that there is life. Every couple of hours, the matter that I am made of breaks apart, scattering itself before eventually reforming, although I am not sure I am always being rebuilt with the same pieces. I have been chasing the light, but it always seems to be too far away.

  Several weeks have gone by, and I am no closer to the light than I have been. Although it takes a lot of energy to walk, I realize that my energy gets revitalized every time I reform. Reforming doesn’t hurt, although it is quite scary, especially the first time it happened. I think I see a large structure in the distance, although I am unsure if it is real or if it is similar to the lights. Yes, there are now multiple lights that appear to take on what feels like a blueish color. I am unsure what they are or what they are used for.

  The structure I have found feels like a house. I get the feeling that it is warm in here. I need to rest, although every time I go to rest, my particles dissipate, and I get worried that if I cannot bring them all back together again, I will die again. But rest seems necessary for some reason, and I feel safe in this space.

  I’ve come to realize that time stretches and bends itself in this nightmareish realm. It felt like days, weeks, and months were all mashed together. Maybe I am a lost soul doomed to roam this place forever. There was more evidence that someone else had been here, footsteps that remained planted in the dirt, the smell of old burning wood. Sometimes, while I was roaming around, I would trip over what seemed to be the remains of an old campfire. I felt like thirty years seemed like a good number to set aside for this solitude here. There were no animals, no plants here; I could barely remember what they were or looked like. But I had set up shelter, a home for me that seemed warm and comfortable. I even decided to give myself a name. I decided to settle for Leon. It felt comfortable.

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