#allthequotes

There is a chasm between me and the world outside of me. A gap so wide my feelings can’t cross it. By the time my screams reach the other side, they have dwindled into groans.

I erupt from the dark, crushing tunnel into a flash of light and noise. A new kind of air surrounds me, dry and cold, as they wipe the last smears of home off my skin. I feel a sharp pain as they snip something, and suddenly I am less. I am no one but myself, tiny and feeble and utterly alone. I am lifted and swung through great heights across yawning distances, and given to Her. She wraps around me, so much bigger and softer than I ever imagined from inside,and I strain my eyes open. I see Her. She is immense, cosmic. She is the world. The world smiles down on me, and when She speaks it’s the voice of God, vast and resonant with meaning, but words unknowable, ringing gibberish in my blank white mind.

One of them steps forward and stops in front of me, inches from my face. No breath wafts from its hollow mouth, but I can feel a faint, low hum emanating from its bones. This hum is not found in me, nor in M, nor in any other of the fleshclad Dead, and I begin to wonder what exactly these dried-up creatures really are. I can no longer believe in any voodoo spell or laboratory virus. This is something deeper, darker. This comes from the cosmos, from the stars, or the unknown blackness behind them. The shadows in God’s boarded up basement.

“No one writes, no one reads, no one really even talks. [...] We don’t have flowers anymore. Just crops.”

[...] we’ll see what happens when we say yes while this rigor mortis world screams no.

“There is no ideal world for you to wait around for. The world is always just what it is now, and it’s up to you how you respond to it.”

But I’m not afraid of the skeletons in Julie’s closet. I look forward to meeting the rest of them, looking them in the eye, giving them firm, bone-crunching handshakes.

What a massive responsibility, being a moral creature.