by John “JAM” Arthur Miller

 

Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

 

          -Friedrich Nietzsche

I gazed into the abyss. Something looked out. A large eye the size of our sun, glaring with hostility. Who dares? it demanded. I smiled and said, Just me… just me. It became confused and blinked.

Each time it blinked the light of the universe went out; a total darkness of the soul seethed with an icy chill that permeated and enveloped all. Stop blinking, I cried. It laughed and shouted, Stop confusing me. But I couldn’t stop confusing it because I couldn’t stop asking it questions. My finite intelligence, although genius among my own kind, was far below its infinite epiphanies; the finite was too much for for the infinite. I crippled it when I informed the beast from the abyss about love. Love? What is love? it cried.

The beast from the abyss slid back into its sludge of bile. Nietzshe rolled over in his grave, and the sun became a new day’s dawn somewhere back in physical reality.

I remained where I hovered, at the edge of the abyss in the bubble of a dream. Aren’t you going to wake up now? the monster from the abyss demanded, its giant eye permanently opened, unblinking.

I smiled and said, But I have more to teach you.

Then I leapt into the abyss, splashed within the bile, felt cold logic slip up my flesh and cover my head. Black, cold vomit slid into my mouth. I swallowed down jagged little pills. The monster screamed in agonizying joy, shouting, It’s too much… too much!

It was just enough – just enough because now I shared the secrets of the abyss. Nietzsche was right: the abyss met my gaze. But more besides, for the abyss crept inside my face, inside my mind even as my essence seeped into it. I sucked in wisdom it had vomited out, and it coddled me by the cold embrace of eternity.

Together we become one, the finite and infinite—organic flesh and the cold kiss of graveyard soil.

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