Sadness. Madness. Badness. No marshmallow splat. No prismatic spray of crystals. No flash of light. Just warped reality and shifting turns. Melting rainbows. Dripping buildings. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Bubbling. Like a witch's cauldron, and this is her twisted spell of vengeance. It is all gone away, puddles. Gone, then.
The sight is more eerie than Deserted Town. Because no town. Just dust. Painted red. Dust and pulverized rock. Miles upon miles. Streeeeeeetch. Dark red heavens. Stained with the blood of the innocents. Pale moon, even. Tinted pink. Nothing for miles. Flat expanse. Wait. No. Something. There. In the distance. Runnnnn. It is a building. Large. Very large. A cathedral? Yes. And blue. A sharp contrast between puddle of azure and sea of crimson. And glass, at that. What is it? How is it? Creeeeaaaaaaak. If glass doors made sound, it would be that. Cautions. Warning sirens in my brain. Never trust anything where you cannot see its brain. I step inside.
Mirrors. Everywhichwhere. Slam! If glass doors made sound, it would be that. Trapped in a Pharaoh's tomb. No choice but to venture forth into the unknown. Mirrors. Smoke and mirrors. Up. Down. Allaround. Mind-bending. Not mending. But odd, reflections. Not normal. Something not quite right. Makes me feel awful. Sick, even. I look at another twisted. My appearance is normal. Wait. No. It can't be. There is something amiss. I cannot place my finger on it. Then, like train wreck. I am not me. I am a collage of everyone. All I look to. All I value. Awful tremors. Another mirror. I am fat. Ugly. Hideous. Third. Stupid. Childish. Immature. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. All terrible. Fears. My fears. The eighth one. I cannot bear to look. There is a severe lack of something. People. Friends. I am abandoned. And I feel as well. Where is everyone? Why have I only seen you? I feel fat and ugly. I am fat and ugly. I feel like a collage of everyone around me. I am a collage of everyone around me. Deeper and deeper into the cornmaze of mirrors. Running. Crying. Sobbing. Avoiding the mirror's gaze of self-depreciation. Running. Running. Crying. Sobbing. Where am I? What is wrong with this place? Clearheadedness has left for lunch. Into a ball. Crying. Feeling worthless. I am worthless.
Dawn approaches. Flaming red sun raises its flag of victory over the horizon. Heating the barren landscape. The Glass Cathedral. I am still trapped. In a maze of my own insecurities. Lost. Lost. Still teary eyed. Avoiding my reflection as though it were the Plague. Ring around the rosie. Pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down. And I do. Collapse. Hopeless. Despairing. Then it dawns. Glass. It shatters. Glass. Glass. That is all it is. Glass. Breakable. I rise like the sun. I face a mirror. I am a collage of everyone. Crack! Pain in the fist. Cracked reflection. Normal reflection. I am fat. Ugly. Hideous. Crack! Not anymore. I am abandoned. Crack! Ouch. Crack! Crack! Crack! Tintinnabulation of broken glass is music to my ears.
I hit a wall. Paper thin. Shatters like a sheet of paper. Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash!
Boom! Crash!
Boom! Crash!
Boom! Crash!
Boom! Crash!
Boom! Crash!
Boom! Crash!
Boom! Crash!
Boom! Crash!
Boom!
Wall after wall after wall. We all fall down. Laughing giddily. Haaaaaaaaaaa! I am not sliced to ribbons by falling glass. Miraculous. I stand over the rubble of the Glass Cathedral. Good riddance. Spit. Hope. Like oxygen.
Like a spectre, you rise. Out of the Glass Cathedral of Despair. What?
Well played, Sir.
Thank you.
Have you any idea where you are going?
No. Do you?
Not in the slightest.
And with a devious grin, you take off like a shot. Booooooooooooooooooooom! Running. Again. A wild goose chase. "Wait!" I call. There is something familiar about the way you look. I cannot place my finger on it. Ah, well. No matter. How to leave this wretched place is another matter. Ah, well. Fleeting human contact, I think. I am lost. You are lost. But for a moment, we were lost together.
I wonder who you are.
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