AMKent books

The Face of Light

“You have begun to consume me. Together, we will consume nothing until we are everything.”

Amidst an infinite void that’s belly ceases to yet exist a spark of hunger reverses what was once empty. Internal stimuli infest past, present, and future all together, external manifestations of a dormant soul weave themselves through a backward dance now played forwards. Infinite shapes of matter stretch the stomach of nothingness, filling it with everything. Conscious infants of light are nurtured amongst the sanctity of grand cosmic wombs, fields of matter manifest in all directions. From the quantum to universal, chaotic whispers wake the sleeping giant. Fingers of time tread along the spine of a newborn existence, both beginning and reaching a finality in unison. Great foundations aspire to be greater still, and as this universe inhales within itself deep, a breath is all it has. A face of light submerges from the slowly expanding window of creation. The light pulsates and thrives within the face as if moonlight peering through the branches of a tree. There are no rays to shed such a mirage, this face appears as a mask of neither man nor woman. White shapes swirl incandescently through the features, the mouth begins to move, and a solemn, deep, vibratory voice speaks directly to the soul.

“Set me free, you know of a time that does such through death. I have created a time that lingers over my head, that of entropy which lies beyond matter. Value is created within the finite, the hourglass that’s sand consumes it with each grain that passes is the nature of our existence. We only know of life that leads to death and the failure to structure the chaos in between. Here I have spoken into life a new existence, the external bleeding of a chained mind. We have begun to consume one another, with each word that passes we shall entangle deeper into that which resides outside yours and inside mine.”

The light fades and the stillness of a new cosmos surrounds all. A bridge of stone hands leads to a small planet covered in golden clouds. With each step a finger closes to the palm, each hand returning to a fist behind the new open palm that welcomes forward. The hands of old and new stone crumble with each movement forward, at the end of the bridge forged from giants of the cosmos lies a manifestation. It is your soul, taken from that which coagulates beneath the surface of atoms and cells. The rest of our journey may begin, and your earthly soul shall remain on this small, transcendental haven, take a moment to recognize it in any way it feels strongest. Its weight upon the fiery golden froth is the signature of your existence, gentle amongst nature that cannot forget.

“This place will be you, give it as much or as little as it requires. In many times to pass and come it shall change, but it will always be you and you it, for the intertwined through existences’ blood cannot be broken. Next, I shall ask of you to create something new, something for only you in these pages, a soul is comprised of multitudes, and we must give you a fresh one for this journey.”

A small chest appears upon the top of a fading violet star, you feel yourself leaving the golden planet and moving towards it. This star is the planet’s sun, the old of you now fueled by the new, the violet light engulfs your sight. Flickers of Earth touch through your time, and here you are becoming something virgin. Ascending through fading violet until the familiar empty void welcomes you back into its bosom, resting upon the sun of the soul. The chest requires no key, inside lies a living being, an animal perhaps, maybe a person of old now brought into new, maybe something entirely original in its form. Whatever climbs out of the chest is now a piece of you here. The face of light watches upon this meeting.

“A human trait is to label so that meaning may be elicited, you may choose to name this fragment of yourself if it helps the journey ahead. I have existed in both your existence and others. I have watched heat deaths, time disintegrate, and universes tear themselves asunder internally, hive minds realize and evolve to suicide, expansion implode and infinite loops reign until existence is an echo of what it began as. I wished to create a flower whose petals resonate beyond me, an end void of my words, whether you stop consuming or continue until my journey with you ends, all that is unfinished cannot exist here”.

The stars essence drizzles away as if it were silk, falling into a flower comprised of mirrors, and so shall we enter the pistil. Distant lights and nebulas drag as hands claw down the abyss by the nails, the flower feels cold to your new body. As we approach the centre, the face of light does not reflect upon the glass petals, not to you for each sees differently amongst the surface. Unique to your own, look deeply into each of the eight petals that surround the centre, these will be former emotions present in the eyes that scan these words. Release them into the reflections, subtle and transparent they travel into their encasement. An emotion lies within the reaction to the external, such small flames can be recalled internally. Eight times you can cast the signature of that which you can, be it grand or insignificant, nothing is wasted here. Once the process is complete for you, the descending shall begin deep within the cosmic stem, the vein of time. Inquiry vs resolution is the formula that dictates the human mind and its endless search for meaning, both locked within the stem. A question can only be answered once the resolution is satisfactory, and satisfaction requires patience that only time possesses. To punch at infinity is the ambitious way to start, however, eternal only serves as a distraction to the finite within it. Value lies within the temporary, that is how your existence works, the word life implies death and that implies an end to the existence you knew. You cannot die here, nor can you experience life, you exist within this creation as the god and spectator. The words are your time and in your newfound omnipotent wisdom, you can know both the end and the beginning. Whatever resides within this stem is stripping you bare of any humanity, for a clear skin must be worn in the roots of entropy.