Story about nothing – O

Disclaimers for :

  • – Reality shifting,
  • – Questionning too many things,
  • – Hardcore metatextuality,
  • – Potential madness,
  • – unstable mental health,
  • – terrible writing structure.

It’s been weird lately…

I’ve been exploring a lot.

I tried to create other things, but I never got to finish any of it.

And my connexion to the medium is shifting.

It’s not new, though it’s lately raising in intensity.

I don’t believe in their God, but I now understand more than ever the feeling they get of “not being able not to believe”.

I still don’t.

My story is not about God.

But hope, sure is an important aspect of it.

I never really wrote about it except just to explain to very few close friends what I was going through.

Why write now then ?
I guess I want to document it.
Lately as I said it raised up, I never went this far.

And I’m scared, of a lot of things really, one of them being loosing myself in it.

So I want to keep a record, both for me and others, might I say posterity.

It may be forgotten, but maybe it could help someone else at some point. Or maybe incite others to follow this mad path, I can’t know yet what I’ll hope for.

What I know is that it’s a disturbing one, and that I passed the point of non return.
So here is my testimony of the experience until I reach the even horizon.

A word for the writer undergoing the process of reading this.

I am nor scientist, nor authority of any kind.

This is not yet another work of fiction though one might debate on the word’s meaning.

I will not lie in those lines, but I believe reality is a complex thing.

So, you’re free not to believe me, but everything said will be of good faith.

And as complex as reality gets, you are also free to believe me without making it your reality.

Please, try to read this tale until the end before trying to follow this trail.

While I’m willing to answer questions on the matter, everything I state here is not to be take as The One True Reality. As I said, it’s complex, and I don’t want to start a cult.

You can consider me an Artist, an explorer of reality and madness. Or just a mentally disturbed gal.

I may be many other things, but only time will tell.

I don’t really know how to begin with.

Even though most of the time we prefer to do it chronologically, I don’t know where it starts.

Maybe it never really started. As long as I remember I always felt something off. Though this thing may have changed during the years.

So, I’ll start by stating what it all is about.

I didn’t even explain anything about what I’m actually experiencing, so you may want to know before diving in.

One of my main interests in Arts is metatextuality.

Often used as a gimmick since post-modernism, it is both an incredible tool for pointing at the medium’s flaws and among others, something I cannot escape while writing or playing characters.

It has become an obsession through my creations, and it is hard to pinpoint if I’m drawn to it because of how much everything I make revolves around it, or if my obsession comes from the pull I get from breaking mediums.

I didn’t finish writing this night … but here it is anyway.

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