Philosophy World
From Create Your Own Story
Adventure Begins Here
Arriving from the sea: the desperate urge to respite is itching at you. This is your final cartel, indeed it closest resembles a sanctuary to you, considering the haze and blur rigorously complementing you earlier experiences. Currently you stand there, bearing a satchel full of useful and practical facets whose details have absconded from your mind; all you can remember of them is your bias towards them being useful items
Purple-flavoured sand passes by your feet so easily that you feel that you'll find yourself macerated by the Earth in a couple of seconds. You unsteadily clamber off of the door-sized timber dinghy and bury your feet in a sheet of powdery gravel and lucid sand while breathing in the corrupted sandalwood acidity that courses through the wind.
White noise and water scratching at rocks rings in your auditorium.
Before you is a steep incline; in the orifices of such ancient creatures of rocks you notice the archaic, distorted orifices which almost look like faces in this loose light, their eyes composed of void.
A glimmer of acute light in one of the sockets gives the impression of a lustrous iris or pupil, but you are no teacher to these seemingly animate rocks. Indeed: these rocks will have to pass through their ancient mouths of stone the secrets of this pass.
It is a very small island you have apprehended in your travels, yet it looks uninhibited, pure and unbound. The certain coolness of the air makes your hand quiver with opportunity, as if you were standing at the verge of an abandoned warehouse, and all that was in it was yours to utilise with a lucid cogency that defied property and signs.
Do you:
