Playground.

This is how you know you're alive.

The scene is as follows:

A white room facing a large window, no pane, just glass. Can see the shadow of the room that isn't in the light but the room is too dim for you to know what is there. Your brain tells you that there's furniture. Light delicately streams through into the room as a figure walks into the light. It's just a beautiful sight. It illuminates the face. The eyes are closed. And then, the moment of humanity. There it is. A thought. You know it just happened because you can see the play of emotion on the face. Cringe. Sharp intake of breath. A flicker of memory. And then suddenly, it's gone. The eyes open. A blank stare. Lies down on the floor, a hardwood floor, you realize. Closes eyes. Dreams of moments past. You're sure of it. It's so human.

My absolute favorite times in life are the times that are real. So real, you can feel the humanity just seeping out of you, your life being consumed by the emotion, the moment...the fire slowly burning out. It's a moment that you can only relish and identify until after it's happened.

Only then can you know exactly what it was that you experienced during that small moment when you knew, when you were absolutely certain, that you were simply going to die. You felt death in between your fingers, you could grasp it and sense it overcome you. It was soft and terrifying and you wrenched and reeled away from it all at once. Your mind became ablaze with the greatest most overwhelming horror you'd ever beheld in your entire misery. You were a child again, I know it. You don't like to go back to that memory. In fact, this very moment you feel the fear again. It's horrible. I know you can feel it. It's your greatest fear. It's the unknown after. It reminds you of your worst moment as a small child, where you were powerless.

That's right. The times in life -the ones I call real- are the ones where the truth is just the truth. Where nothing is hidden and the power of the truth is in full force. You're not ten feet tall, you're not larger than life; you're pathetic, you're small. You're lower than the lowest being this earth has seen. Your misery, your exiguousness is older than time itself. It's more real than anything you're ever felt, more ancient than time. I can see it now. I can feel it. It's terrible. But it's real. And it scares you more than anything you've ever felt in your life.

It's a feeling like no other.

It's like a composition of music that touches you to the very core, that shakes your bones and opens your senses to the world that surrounds you. Your eyes are thus opened and you are in awe, and in fear. There is no sound, there is no reaction, there is no word that can describe the object of your disbelief. Because how can you believe that something this real, something so terrible and raw can truly exist? Can God be that great? Are you really that low? But you can't be. This can't be it. Denial. It's a lie. You refuse.

It's that feeling that you fly, that your skin is cold and numb. The world is made anew. You know that everything is wrong because it just seems so alien and undisguised. The bitterness of your eyes' wealth is simply too much to bear.

Oh this life, this world we live in. We long to corrupt ourselves beyond unintelligibility until we finally expire.

It's a playground, love.