Break Free

He knew neither position nor direction. Had neither memory nor purpose. Having been stuck in the murky darkness slowly engulfing his being, he just knew what he had to do — escape.

How he had found himself there was not something known to him. He did not know who he was supposed to be. Or, why he was supposed to be, for the matter.

He even did not understand why he wanted to escape the abysmal depths. The shadows were neither unnerving nor soothing. They were too unstimulating to extract the need for escape within him. Much like how the entire scenario was unstimulating to him. Yet, that pang of anxiety and longing for freedom somehow remained.

He had his questions, of course, but no will to pursue the answers. He was pretty sure that said answers were beyond reach from him. So was escaping from oblivion. The place — if one could even call it one — stretched infinitely. And, it contained nothing but him, who was groping his way through. His hands, bony and frail, didn't find anything to feel; his feet found no obstacle to trip over or show any presence of elevation.

Speaking of feeling, he was sure he had been deprived of most of his senses. His eyes saw nothing, his ears did not pick any sound, he sniffed no smell, familiar or unfamiliar. He couldn't even feel the body he had. He just existed in this strange world with nothing except his thoughts.

Thoughts? What thoughts did he have? The questions that swarmed around his mind? The thought of escaping? The thought of thoughts themselves? What was he, in the void, but a vessel of thoughts? If not, what was he? Where was he? Why was he? How was he? Were his thoughts the only justification of his existence at all? And if there was nothing else besides him, why did the justification matter? He was as good as non-existent.

He wasn't even sure whether the limbo he was succumbing to was supposed to contain him, or if it was him who contained such a limbo within him. In either case, escape seemed an unachievable ordeal. The vast emptiness was far bigger than he could ever contemplate or have any control over. That is when he was subjected to an epiphany.

The void, too, was as good as non-existent if there was no one to perceive it. He might not have any influence over where he was, but he had control over who he was. His own justification gave him meaning and his own actions could cause it to cease to exist.

He was not entirely convinced about whether he was right about the interpretation of the situation, but he now knew what must be done.

He might not have any rational reason to try and escape, but the lack of stimuli was overwhelming enough to compel him to do so. If the void was within him, he might finally know what reality was supposed to be. If not, the crepuscular abyss would at least discontinue to be for him. That was good enough. He knew not how he knew, but the fact that he was an ordinary organic being was known to him.

With the distorted sense of time he had, he wondered how long it had taken for him to reach such a drastic decision. But it didn't matter. He was satisfied to know that he would finally escape, once and for all. He flung himself into his sea of thoughts

— the only way he knew how to end this

— and drowned himself into the surging flood. He knew that, somewhere along the line, while exploring the gloomy depths of his own thoughts, he would get overcome by enough introspection that he would finally let go of his mortal shell, however long it takes. Then, he would finally escape.

                                                                                                                -Hassan Sarosh