Land of Almosts

Within myself is a world beyond the grasp of reality. The laws of life and the common world have no hold there, in the place without a name.

I try to grab something, anything, but the moment I feel close enough it slips away and transforms again. It is no longer what it was and will never be the same again. It has returned to the state of almost-being.

The nameless world is border-less, constantly changing shape whenever the edge seems to be near. It shifts and morphs, its almost-colours obscuring a secret that will never be uncovered.

Words have no meaning there. The moment they are formed the world steals them away to be bound and combined with the rest of the almost-ideas. There is an immense potential for something in these almosts. A potential to go beyond what has ever been created before. As always in this place of mystery, the almosts never become solid enough to be used.

There is an ethereal air, fragile and powerful, delicate and all-knowing. It covers the space and follows the ever-changing absence of reality. The feeling seems to suggest something lurking in the non-existent corners of the unknown world. That something seems neither good nor evil, but promises a chaos that will upset the rules of this lawless land.

If I spend too long in the place without reality then I will lose my grip on all I have ever known. The chaos will eventually come and I will be there to feel it, but for now I return to the accepted world.