Innocence is the Forgotten - The BeginningNothingness. It was not emptiness. It was not being. No space. No quantity to occupy.Innocence is the Forgotten - The Beginning by death-in-the-orchard
And yet, awareness. And then, he was aware of himself.
Nothingness leapt ahead, striding in leagues, decades, power that became without creation. It felt, and he knew, that he was the void. He was the darkness. He saw his self, and it was alien to him.
Then pain, agony, in writhing currents from something in the self of nothing that was he. And as the self gave way, and the darkness fluttered as if torn, feeling ceased. Deadness was all, and nothing was everything and every part of his being was the world.
As though washing ashore some other realm, apart from the nothingness of his vacant self, the abyss receded from him as he lay on something stiff, something warmer than the lightless void, yet it was cold. And it hurt. And it reeked of his negated essence. But that was part of the cold, the stiffness, he himself was stiffened to the hard surface, plastered with layers and congealed globs – the
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