Antisepholes.

Please remember me. Remember me when I'm dead and gone underground. When I've faded from each singular soul's mind. When my stain fades from the human lace entirely. Please. I'm begging you.

One cold, wintry, blisteringly frigid day, I'll take you there. I'll shock and awe and amaze you. It's an awful, flickering, terrible, beautiful sight.

That place where the cool, green waters cause the golden empyrean kingdom to droop and the shivery, cold, dank earth to rise up.

And thus, I go to the place where the water makes the heavens and the earth collide.

And it's a sad place. I'm all alone there. It's cold.

And everything there seems to represent my existence, for better or for worse?

I stand beneath a cherry tree -- naked, bare, exposed. I reach out to touch a blossom and I detonate in a mixed cavalcade of emotion. It manifests itself in cherry blossoms. And I fall to the damp soil, pretty in pink. A thing of the most bizarre nature. Of the most peculiar stature.

Please forgive me. I apologize if I took up too much of your time.