Sometimes when I am sitting alone, in the dark, or a quiet place, I find myself contemplating life and what it means. Also what it means to be dead. Those are things I believe one could spend their entire like thinking about and either never arrive at any definite conclusion, or live in abject fear. I find my self between those two places often. More times than others, I try to ignore the thought of what life means, almost like I don't really want to hear the answer, if it's out there.
Its like sitting and a dark room, all alone, but you're really not. You have your thoughts to keep you company. They swirl in and around your inner self, laughing, and taunting. Yet, you are alone and surrounded by darkness. What is it to be alone? Are you ever really alone?
The lights go out around me, I hear footsteps in my mind, I see a light at the corner of my vision. I am not alone. The thought, walks in and sits down in front of me. We stare at each other for the longest time. Me afraid to move, afraid that if I do, it will leave, half wishing it to. We stare, I shift im my seat, the sound is like the thunder during a storm. Then sunddenly, the thought moves, almost impreceptibly, it moves forward...towards me. This time I hear no sound in my mind, I open my mouth to cry out. The thought takes shape, the shape of something dreadful and horrible. It opens it's mouth in a silent scream. Then vanishes.