I once had a conversation with someone He talked to me of those twilight hours Those times when your mind is on fire Those times when you can't sleep because the creative and an*lytical possibilities before you are endless He said those are the times he wants to write I understood him but I was also flabbergasted I couldn't comprehend his unabashed enthusiasm It was as if he didn't know the other side of that The other side I find to be so intrinsically attached to those moments when your mind becomes a rocket No words No big bang No big bang No big bang No Big Bang I get the exhilaration but when you look down and see the sheer stupidity of the roller coaster just staring you in the face as blank and inescapable as the slab of concrete below Just waiting to catch you, to crush you, your falling body, your skull All of the sudden all of the science and evolution and progress I mean sure, it looks good from a distance but when you're really inside of it you realize it's f**ing terrifying The inexorable pull of "progress," when your mind keeps running along the same narrow tract of logic for what feels like forever and the developments are horrible and gruesome and haunting and you mind won't stop and they're there And you can't unseen them How could one not be scared of that? No crash No big bang No big bang No big bang No Big Bang Oh, I know those times Those times when your mind is a rocket propelling you through space so fast but it can flip all at once Suddenly I realize the rocket is just a prison A small contained space with no real food, no companionship, no time pa**ing, no gravity Just the weight of my own insignificance, my foolishness, and my hubris thrust into the glaring light that is the sun but much much closer than it was before, and all I want is to die Not so much die as be undone, to go back and undo it all Make all of me as if it never happened in the first place No birth No big bang No big bang No big bang No Big Bang