”I walk inside of a dense fog, an opaque yet gradient whiteness faded and not. There is nothing to see except for that which can not be unseen.
I am inside of this haze of sorts, infinite clouds of everlasting blindness. I’ve seen many yet then I haven’t seen them again.
For 8 years have I been walking inside of this mist, wondering how I got here in the first place. Conflict inhabit this place like wasps protecting their nests.
Life and death, like a dance, simplified by the strike of swords- -followed by silence.
In the mist one sees nothing but himself and is surrounded by a cloak of faded white. One will not see an enemy until they’re right in front of ‘m. Sometimes the great many of them. The ones who are not prepared, die. I fight and I hope that I will not.
Words of an ancient book have kept me firm in this place. ”Persevere like a diamond.” ”Never be deceived.” ”Be strong always.” Are words that I constantly remind myself of.
In loneliness I walk in the opaque mist that surrounds and blinds me to a foot. Uncertainty appears at every corner but I know that I shall prevail.
A step at a time, eyes open and ears to the wind. Alas, the more I walk, the more it all lasts.
Every bit of comfort is welcome in this a place, where one can see but naught. Sometimes it dissipates enough to see a next place to go to. In dire times, when my death was certain certain; it did.
I will always mend and get ready to walk inside of the mist again, toward… …the unknown.
To the test of endurance. To where the fittest survive, where the weakest and unprepared are crushed. To be ready to fight dozens at a time, under the worst conditions is but a necessity inside of the mist.
I Write this in my tattered journal, with my eyes wide open. Hopeful and with an ancient book that reads: ”Perseverance, like a flawless diamond; shines very bright- -must be generated under extreme pressure- is very rare- and is extremely strong. This is the last quality necessary to withstand The Mist.”
These words encourage me to keep on moving. No great person was feeble. Nor will I be. I must persevere.”
”The mist” A phisolosophical text written by Lux Leonum, on Thursday, February 13th of 2025 20:30
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