six hundred sixty-six

very few get the opportunity to tell the story of their demise. even fewer set out to do so. i will not be one of those rarities this time around despite my previous convictions.

i no longer find explanations vital. as of late, i have come into the understanding that most explanations serve as coping mechanisms (see: excuses) for thought patterns which the atrophied brain does not wish to address.

they told me that i have five senses.

it would seem unsurprising, then, that the brain is allegedly so weak, “using only a mere fraction of its power.” i do find it surprising that the majority is perfectly fine with this theory and wish to do nothing more to access the rest of our given operating system.

is there nobody who wants more? do you even brain lift, bro?

a precognitive dream that is entirely accurate down to the finest details may awaken one to the fact that other capabilities are within arm’s reach. in this case, perhaps i should say “mind’s reach.” but you won’t reach anyway, will you?

would you feel more comfortable if i were to replace the word “senses” with “capabilities?” then, might you reach?

what if i told you that you have six hundred sixty-six capabilities?

would you find the attempt easier then and set out to expand? or would you resist due to superstitions regarding numerology? perhaps it’s just easier to stick with the original five.

rest now. a storm is coming, i’ve heard.

an incubus stated, “when it comes, it comes abrupt.”

when was the last time you experienced deja vu?

i'd be thrilled to hear your true, uncensored thoughts. i'd also love to read your writing.