The Web
Content Warnings: existential dread
I dangle from a web built in the center of time, each of the threads tether me to a different piece of myself. The web spans for miles, far beyond the limits of my vision. Above me is light, below me is dark. It’s so empty here. My only means of entertainment is looking into the strings and engaging with the aspect of my life I keep within them.
The web used to be a lot cozier than it is now. I keep losing threads; something happens, and they snap off.
In the beginning, it was easier to replace the strings because most of the web was still intact. But now, with so much of the foundation gone, trying to reassemble it is a Sisyphean task. I barely have the room to move around anymore, let alone even think about repairing anything.
So here I am, barely holding on. It becomes harder and harder to focus on the light with every day that passes. So much of the web is gone. It’s become difficult to keep holding onto it. I do have victories, but they start to feel so few and far between when losses begin happening more often. At this point, I’m wondering how long it’ll be until the web is reduced to a straight line.
The thought of letting go has crossed my mind, but I’m way too frightened to actually do it. When I look below me, I see an abyss. I see a dark cloud with no bottom in sight. I don’t know how far down it goes. There’s no telling what’s going to happen to me if I fall. It’s possible I could keep falling forever, or it’s possible I could land safely on a platform hidden down there. So I will wait. I will wait until the last of the web breaks away and the darkness claims me naturally. I mean, it’s not like the future is looking hopeful in any way.
I’ve never particularly felt like I had a future waiting for me, especially not while the ground beneath me is crumbling away.
This is my life. This is all I have to look forward to. The threads are falling apart faster than I can put them back together, and the degradation is showing no signs of slowing. I fear there may be nothing I can do other than lay here and wait for the inevitable. I suppose I won’t know what will happen until it happens, but I’d be lying if I said I was hopeful. It’s always just been the web and I, and that’s how it will stay.
