Everland

Everland

My eyes are closed to the world. The nothingness surrounds me, and yet I feel safer this way than ever before. I am afraid of what the world may be like outside, so I squeeze my eyes tightly, hoping that I never wake from the safety net that the darkness has become for me.

I do not know where I am, and yet it does not seem to matter. All that matters is the lack of worry that this place brings for me. It is so simplistic, and yet so complex. My imagination could strengthen this place one thousand fold, and yet, there are no enemies to defend against.

This whole world is my play area; my creation that I could mould to my liking, but wish not to do so. It is far too perfect as it is now.

There are no rules here, but it is no longer just a game for me. There are no characters, and no scenery, but this is because of the lack of necessity for such things. Those are but foolish idealistic creations, made to blind our eyes from the perfection that comes with nothing. Why should we imagine what we can see with our eyes?

I see what the possibilities this place holds for me are now.

I stand, mindless, thinking not of anything that is beyond the Everland; of anything that would ruin it’s perfection, and the soulful bliss that it brings to me.

The Everland is wholly darkness, like the sinister mistress of the night, but more complex. She stretches on, farther than the mind can conceive, and she is everything that I have ever believed that I could conceive.

And yet, as time passes, I feel an interesting urge to reach towards the beyond. I hear voices, calling to me, like the distant whispering of the wind.

Ever-so subtly, they reach out for me, calling to me from the distant lands of beyond. I hear them, and try to reach, but find myself paralyzed to the core of my soul. I try to call out to them hoping that they will perhaps hear me, but my mouth does not open.

The perfect world around me begins to change, as if it was a painting dating back hundreds of years, which has been washed over, and crushed into a small object, that I was inside.

My surroundings begin to creep towards me, becoming an unstoppable, ever more powerful force.

I call out to it, trying in vein to stop its approach. My very world as I know it, is falling apart in front of me. The perfect place that was
Everland is being transformed into something out of my worst fears.

She surrounds me more each moment, growing closer to me as we near each other. I feel a connection with the powerful force that is my very heart and soul, my Everland. She reaches her arms towards me, and I stop calling out to her. The voices are still whispering to me from beyond, but I choose to no longer listen. As I attempt to free myself from the grasp of my creation, she tightens her grip. It is useless to fight anymore.

For me, escaping like this is my very life, the thing that helps me to survive. I do not want to believe that there is anything else. Nothing gives me more security. Nothing. It is my world; it is my prison.