Stuck Somewhere Else

Timothy O'Neill
Sep 3, 2018 · 5 min read

I have felt stuck for some time now. I often ask myself: what am I not getting? Is it something small but vital? Is it something large that I am missing entirely? Is it something that is staring me in the face and sighing a long, slow sigh of exasperation?

Please tell me, universe. You were cold, random and uncaring before. Now I must personalize you, because I’m in a deep hole and I see no earthly way of escaping.

I hope you don’t mind.

Slipping into a black hole is a dangerous business. You become a hard person to find and an even harder person to reach. We are interconnected and interdependent, but black holes seem to bring people together in a way that is identity-shattering.

You become the singularity. Everyone does. Then you labour under the lonely, painful delusion that everything revolves around you. Literally, everything. That’s a lot of weight to carry. The density can’t really be described.

Imagine corporeal forms swishing around in a spherical ocean of light, seeing nothing but darkness when they peer out.

Why would you want to leave? Things would only get worse. The false light of congealed and distorted consciousness is nothing in comparison to the ravenous finality of the dark.

However.

You are here.

And if you are courageous and bolstered by optimism and healthy self esteem you may have the ghost of a chance.

But what landed you in the cosmic slammer in the first place? Did you come here of your own freewill, or were you maybe sent here on a mission of mercy to retrieve the souls that cannot find their way out?

If you’re on a mission, what you really need to lure souls back out of the false light and into freedom is a compelling argument, endless patience and the willingness to lose yourself in order to reconnect others.

Why a compelling argument? Because many of the people here are trapped not by the forces of physics, but by themselves.

Some don’t remember, and refuse to believe, that they existed beyond the singularity. Some don’t believe in a beyond, period.

Some won’t leave, because they believe this was just punishment meted out by the universe for their transgressions.

You can say, “Well, being part of the universe, I feel qualified to state that your sentence has been commuted.”

I’ve seen that raise an eyebrow or two. But then they spun around and were engulfed in light. They've been through too much for too long to be condescended to.

Some won’t leave out of spite, because they are old, stubborn souls who believe they must have been abandoned or betrayed to end up in a place like this.

The singularity.

The trickiest obstacles to overcome lie inside the minds of the captives.

Don’t forget that that is what they are, no matter how chipper they may appear. The suspicion that something is amiss is never far from their minds and it infects everything they think, feel and do.

The sphere looks small doesn’t it?

Time and space, as you know, operate differently here. This glowing sphere of forgotten phantoms contains cities and towns. People have jobs. They cook and clean and drive cars. They have clothes and jewelry and television. There’s a movie theater and fire and police departments. People bring with them what they remember. And what they think they need.

Because of course when it comes to emergency services, the only real danger a ghost might face is the possibility of escape.

Or the revelation they are ghosts, which has pushed many to madness.

Are you sure you’re in the right place?

Oh, yes, me, that’s right. I said I was stuck because there is something I’m not getting.

I’d like your help in untying this knot. I know all the delusions, worries and obsessions that keep people here. I know enough to know that the darkness is not as frightening as it may seem. And I know that it is possible to pierce the outer shell of the sphere from the inside.

I’ve been doing all the talking. Feel free to jump in if you have any thoughts pertinent to this tragedy. Excuse me, I consider any situation in which souls are unwittingly trapped for a few years shy of eternity to be a tragedy.

“Do you know,” the woman began, “that the darkness does not last forever?”

“I, well, I, um… Of course I know that. Of course I do. Just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean that something doesn’t exist.”

It was a shameless attempt to placate the voice of despair in the back of my mind. I was not persuaded, and I highly doubt the other half of me was either.

“Do you know,” she continued, “that you captured the souls in the sphere? Do you remember doing this? Do you remember why you did it?”

I immediately resented such a heinous accusation. And I didn’t like her tone. I didn’t trust her. But something about what she said tugged at me.

“Do you know,” she said, leaning so close I could feel the heat of her breath on my cheek. “Do you know, that you trapped me here as well? What was it all for? Have you lost everything that once was you?” For the first time since she had arrived her voice cracked with emotion. Her eyes were gleaming, her head tilted at an odd angle as she stared at me.

“If you don’t remember me, that’s okay. It makes this less painful. You’re a stranger now. A stranger did this to me and the others. You’re a deluded madman and I can let you go. I won’t pry into your motivations any further. They don’t matter, because you no longer matter. Goodbye, stranger.”

And with that she swam through the sphere and out into the darkness from which no one ever returned. The whiff of nostalgia, the twinge of the heart I felt in the previous moment was gone already.

I went deeper into the singularity. If I couldn’t escape, I could at least learn more about what was holding me captive. And I could use that knowledge to make my fellow prisoners’ lives more comfortable.

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