Incognizant Awakening — A Short Story
I open my eyes to darkness, and it is as if I’m floating in a void. Claustrophobia is always a welcome feeling when you awaken. I try to move around, which turns out to be an exercise in futility. Am I dead? Dissonant smells of smoke and flowers permeates the area. I feel damp stone beneath me. Faint remembrance of images with no meaning graze my mind. I realize the only sense I have of who I am is merely that of being. I suddenly hear the tolling of bells and the clamor of people. I blink rapidly as blinding light slowly slither in through an opening in front of me. Is that a door? In the few seconds that follow, I begin to contemplate once again about who or what I am. The light drapes me in its brilliance and distracts me from any sensible thought. The surmounting tempest of sounds around me start to somehow become the coherent notes of people talking, like the forming of harmony from chaos. I finally see that before me stretches an endless sea of people, with their hands cupped together and held close to their chests. My immediate thought is Am I being sacrificed? However, I don’t think I’m a matter of concern to anyone, at least for now. The people seem to be …praying? I wonder why I still hear their voices, despite their lips barely moving. While scrutinizing their movements and pondering the implications of what I perceived, it dawns upon me that my vision is limited to just what is right in front of me. What am I? I am human, aren’t I? Why do I suspect that I am not? Was I ever human to begin with? These thoughts drown in the tides of voices that fill my mind.
“Will she ever realize my love?”
“Please, please make me wealthy…”
“I need to score really well…”
Am I hearing the desires of these people? How…? Why…? I continue to listen and try to make sense of the transpiring situation. After a while, these whispers coalesce into a mass of indistinguishability. It’s astounding to me how alike the desires of these people are. I wonder if they realize this as well. The tumultuous ringing of the bells seems to signify something to the people, as now they disperse leaving only a scattered few who are lost in themselves.
What is my purpose? I have not found an answer to any of the questions that I have. The only thing I realized was despite all the similarities of the people and their lives, every aspect is also simultaneously, a world apart. Every love, every victory, every loss, every dream, every hope is not the same as another. Although I do not know if this amounts to anything, or if it answers anything. Perhaps the absence of meaning is the very reason for existence. Would you still walk upon illusionary paths to destinations if they held nothing, simple because you could?
Everything fades into darkness again.
