⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⋆﹏♋︎﹏⋆⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Journal ----------- #journal #viewed-oocly #inperson #narration ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⋆﹏♋︎﹏⋆⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ~ Entry I ~ ------ Forgive the scrawl of my letters; my hand still trembles as if it’s been centuries since it learned to stay still. Each stroke still feels a burning ache, reminding me that I’m still tethered to flesh even when the world around me has gone. Time has become a stranger. The bubbles I float in have no sunrise or sunset to mark their passing, no working clocks to root me to a calendar. I have not stepped beyond the thin skin of my own memory, even if the emptiness inside it presses on me like a suffocating memory. During one aimless night I found upon a strange device. At first I assumed it was just a piece of slate that had slipped from the cavern walls during some long‑forgotten repair but the moment my fingertips brushed its surface it pulsed with a soft glow. I can't tell whether it is another trick of this afterlife, another illusion meant to convince me the surroundings are real, or something truly foreign and alive. I don't know which option unsettles me more. The clowns that haunt these spaces move with the same deceptive grace, so whoever pulls their strings must be a master of illusion. I worry for the children who listen to their calls of mirth and believe it to be a sweet song, may they have the realisation to not go to where they sing.