You feel your self-conciousness slipping as you tread down the steely path. Part of you feels your soul dissolve and start to become one with the surreal yet sublime plane, yet you fight it. You know it is your fate to dissolve, to become intangible from the universe, but at the same time not yet. No. There is much to be done.
Sometimes winning and sometimes losing the battle for your awareness, you walk on. Your legs feel like a perfect machine, never tiring, never needing rest. You know it must've been days since you began, but nothing seems to have changed. You cannot even look back to see if you can see the golden path.
The excitement in you grows.
As you feel your mind fatigue and that you are about to dissolve completely, you notice a statue in front of you.
She is an ugly woman, but she looks very grandmotherly. She is serene and comforting, in her withered looks. You run to her, taking countless steps but never getting closer until you dive into her arms.
You put your head upon her chest and think that, for all it's hard coldness, it is comforting. You only rest for an instant, though, as you see that it is lifeless, yet the arms have embraced you.
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