224. Viva vida
<span style="font-weight:400">Darkness that’s all she saw. She wondered if she had pushed too far, if perhaps, she had died. No, she hadn’t, she was still alive, she knew this much. How she knew she didn’t know, no, she did. Something changed, something fundamental and yet… it remained the same.
<span style="font-weight:400">Understanding flowed through her like a forgotten memory. She knew things she hadn’t known. No, she had known them, yet she had forgotten them. Was it forgetting if she hadn’t learnt them? It was weird, her mind a mess. Thoughts flowed too fast to understand, disjointed, <b><i>BROKEN.</i></b>
<span style="font-weight:400">She had pushed too far, or perhaps, she hasn’t pushed far enough just yet. It was weird, she understood that something was missing. Something fundamental to her, something she needed. How long had she been here? Time was weird to gauge. Moments felt too long, years felt too short. Time felt disjointed just like her thoughts, just like her.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Is this what death feels like?” Once again she wondered about the state of her life, orck thereof if that were the case. Words flowed through here, she spoke yet she didn’t. Her words resounded in the dark,ing from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
<span style="font-weight:400">“No, death could never im me.” Her voice resounded once more, yet calling it hers felt wrong, or right? It was strange, she hadn’t voiced those thoughts as they were not hers. No, they were hers, she understood that much. Something was strange, something was odd.
<span style="font-weight:400">“If not dead, then what is going on?” Once again her voice came to be, once again from a thought that was her own yet not. She felt bewildered at the experience, one she had many times before. No, this was the first time she felt it. No, she had been here before. No, this is new. No, this is old. No, this is-. No, this-. No-
<span style="font-weight:400">“Is this what death feels like?” Again her voice asked the question she had asked before.
<span style="font-weight:400">“No, death could never im me.” Again the same answer.
<span style="font-weight:400">“If not dead, then what is going on? Again the same question."
<span style="font-weight:400">“Is this what death feels like?” “No, death could never im me.” “If not dead then what is going on?” “Is this what death feels like?” “No, death could never im me.” “If not dead then what is going on?” “Is this what death feels like?” “No, death could never im me.” “If not dead then what is going on?” “Is this what death feels like?” “No, death could never im me.” “If not dead then what is going on?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Again and again and again and again and again and… again? Has this happened before? her thoughts, felt foreign and yet her own. Something called to her something important. What was it? A part of her, a part long forgotten. No, she remembers it. No, she doesn’t. No, she could never forget. No, she simply doesn’t know.
<span style="font-weight:400">Again like a loop her thoughts fought within herself. Like a maddening chorus of thoughts. She knew what she needed and yet she didn’t. A paradox that drove her mad. Yet madness eluded her as well. Her mind felt clear, like never before, yet it felt muddled like never before.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What am I forgetting?” Again her voice resounded through the empty space. She hoped for an answer. Perhaps that other self that was still herself would answer.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Nothing.” She did get an answer, one that simply didn’t help. She should have felt frustrated, she didn’t.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Is this what death feels like?” “No, death could never im me.” “If not dead then what is going on?” “What am I forgetting?” “Nothing.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Like a maddening echo her voice continued to talk incessantly into the nothingness. Like a <b><i>BROKEN </i></b><span style="font-weight:400">record skipping and repeating the same part over and over again. And yet, something felt special about that thought. Perhaps in it she could find an answer? A connection integral to her. Something that she needed was there. She had felt it before, moments prior.
<span style="font-weight:400">“-Is this what death feels like?-” “-No, death could never im me.-” “-If not dead then what is going on?-” “-What am I forgetting?-” “-Nothing.-”
<span style="font-weight:400">This time it was different. Each phrase came out at once, as if a chorus of herself had deigned itself to speak in unison. Yet, she could understand each singr phrase and word spoken clearly. As if each one had been spoken separately. It was strange and confusing. No, it wasn’t confusing. No, it didn’t make sense. No, it is how it''s meant to be. No, it-
<span style="font-weight:400">“-Is this what death feels like?-” “-No, death could never im me.-” “-If not dead then what is going on?-” “-What am I forgetting?-” “-Nothing.-”
<span style="font-weight:400">Before her thoughts could go into another weird loop of contradiction her attention shifted towards the Chorus.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why am I talking like a <b><i>BROKEN </i></b><span style="font-weight:400">record anyway?” As soon as she spoke she felt a shift. Something changed, something fell in ce. Something stayed the same. Something kept still. The Darkness cracked, a crack of pure and absolute white. Infinitelyrge and infinitely far. Yet, infinitely small and infinitely close.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>BROKEN</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”<b><i></i></b>
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>BROKEN</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>BROKEN</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>BROKEN</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>BROKEN</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">Her voice chanted distorted yet the same. Then silence, everything changed, yet stayed the same. Something was missing, yet it was there. Something came back, yet it had never left. It was in that moment that her voice came back speaking as <b><i>ONE</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">.
<span style="font-weight:400">“-Is this what death feels like?-” “-No, death could never im me.-” “-If not dead then what is going on?-” “-What am I forgetting?-” “-Nothing.-” “-Why am I talking like a <b>██████ </b><span style="font-weight:400">record.-”
<span style="font-weight:400">There it was again, that feeling of connection. She just needed to figure out what it was. She already knew. No, she didn’t. No, she never forgot. No, she-
<span style="font-weight:400">She was getting better at breaking the thought loops. Even so, she didn’t know how long it took her to do so. No, she did. No, she-
<span style="font-weight:400">Again, she had to break another thought loop. She needed to concentrate, figure out what had triggered that feeling of connection. It had been something she had thought. It was <b><i>ONE </i></b><span style="font-weight:400">singr thought of importance. It was-.There, it was there again. Singr, unique, irreplicable.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Am I the single <b><i>ONE </i></b><span style="font-weight:400">here?” Again her voice resounded through the dark. Again something fell in ce. Again something shifted. Again everything stayed the same. Again everything changed. Another pure white crack appeared in the dark. spreading like a spider web into the beyond.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>ONE</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>ONE</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>ONE</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>ONE</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>ONE</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">Again her voice chanted distorted yet the same. Then silence again, everything changed again, yet stayed the same again. Something was still missing, yet it was still there. Something came back again, yet it had never left. Words… meaning, not written, yetprehended. Not spoken, yet heard.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Say your name.” Meaning, that was what she understood. The cracks had meaning. They wanted her name. What was her name? She remembers it clearly. She spoke it clearly as well.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Tomoka.” No, that wasn’t her name. No, that is her name. No, that is not-
<span style="font-weight:400">Another thought loop this time, one that took longer to break. How long had it taken? She didn’t know. No, she did-
<span style="font-weight:400">This one took less time to break. How long did it take? It didn’t matter. She needed to speak her name. If Tomoka is not her name then perhaps that of her past life would work.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Tomoka” “Aurora” No, that isn’t her name either. No, it is her name. No, that is not-
<span style="font-weight:400">It took time to break. Another thought loop. How many were there already? She didn’t know. No, she did. No, she-
<span style="font-weight:400">She should have felt annoyed at having to break another thought loop. Yet she didn’t. She didn’t know why. No, she-
<span style="font-weight:400">Once again she broke one more thought loop. She needed to get back to what was important. Her name, what is her name? If Tomoka is not her name. If Aurora is not her name. Then what is her name? They are her names, yet they are not her name. That''s right, those are her names, plural, not her name, singr.
<span style="font-weight:400">What is her name? Why was it so important anyway? She didn’t know. No, she-. She needed to keep her mind on track. She needed to figure it out. It is important, she understood its importance despite not understanding its importance.
<span style="font-weight:400">“-Is this what death feels like?-” “-No, death could never im me.-” “-If not dead then what is going on?-” “-What am I forgetting?-” “-Nothing.-” “-Why am I talking like a <b>██████ </b><span style="font-weight:400">record.-” “-Am I the single <b>███</b><span style="font-weight:400"> here?-” “-Say your name-” “-Tomoka-” “-Aurora-”
<span style="font-weight:400">Her voice was back, repeating what she had said before like a chant. A persistent eco that never changed no matter what. That is when she remembered. No she never forgot. No, she had forgotten. No, she-
<span style="font-weight:400">She focused, her voice had answered before. She had answered herself before. She knows the answer, yet she doesn’t. If you don’t know something, ask. If someone asks you an answer. She was in both positions, and neither at the same time. So, she asked.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What is my name?” Silence. Complete and utter silence. She wondered if she would answer herself. Yet she felt like she was simply choosing her words carefully. It felt odd, disjointed, yet whole. Like the image of a cracked mirror.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Do you truly want to know?” A question, not an answer. Did she want to know? She did want to know. It was important to know. She already knew anyway, even if she didn’t. What would be the difference between knowing and not. Was there one even?
<span style="font-weight:400">“Everything would change.” Before she could formte a thought she answered.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Everything would stay the same.” It reminded her of a theory from her past life. The theory of the infinity wave. It could be summarized into those very same words. Everything changes, yet everything stays the same.
<span style="font-weight:400">“-Is this what death feels like?-” “-No, death could never im me.-” “-If not dead then what is going on?-” “-What am I forgetting?-” “-Nothing.-” “-Why am I talking like a <b>██████ </b><span style="font-weight:400">record.-” “-Am I the single <b>███</b><span style="font-weight:400"> here?-” “-Say your name-” “-Tomoka-” “-Aurora-” “-What is my name?-” “-Do you truly want to know?-” “-Everything would change-” “-Everything would stay the same-”
<span style="font-weight:400">Again there it was, her voice repeating her words. It somehow helped her focus. It somehow reminded her of what she needed to do. She asked again. This time with conviction, with determination.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What is my name?” A momentter she had her answer.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b>██████-██████</b><span style="font-weight:400">” Her head pounded it was her name yet she couldn’tprehend what it was. No, she could. No she-
<span style="font-weight:400">Did she even have a head? No, she didn’t. No, she did. No, she-
<span style="font-weight:400">No matter what, she needed to know her name.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What is my name?” She asked once more, she would know. No matter what.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b>██T██M-██R███</b><span style="font-weight:400">” Like an imprable wall breaking way. Some of her name was revealed to her. It wasn’t nearly enough. She wouldn’t rest until she knew her name and so, she asked again.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What is my name?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b>██T██M-██R██O</b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“What is my name!?” and again.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b>█KT█OM-A█R██O</b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“WHAT IS MY NAME!?” and again.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b>█KT█OM-A█RR█O</b><span style="font-weight:400">”
<span style="font-weight:400">“WHAT. IS. MY. NAME!?” and again.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<b><i>AKTOOM-AURRAO</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">” The darkness broke and with it everything else followed. Shards of reality like those of ss. Her mind, whole again yet broken beyond repair. She could see her world shatter. pieces of it showing her remnants of its history. It looked beautiful, mesmerizing, and utterly mundane. She had finally woken up.
<span style="font-weight:400">She had seen this before an infinity of times. Everything she had seen before, an infinity of times. After all, she is the one and only. She is the <b><i>BROKEN ONE AKTOOM-AURRAO</i></b><span style="font-weight:400">. A concept nothing more nothing else. A fundamental part of everything, existing before the beginning, persisting beyond the end.
<span style="font-weight:400">Why would she act, there simply wasn’t a need. Everything was simply meaningless. Everything would change, everything would stay the same. So what if her universe shattered. There were uncountable others just the same. Apathy, that was all she felt.
<span style="font-weight:400">Perhaps she would sleep, remaining inert for the rest of her eternal existence. Yet something caught her eye. A shard of the just shattered universe. Small, inconsequential a fragment of a singr moment in time in a singr ce.
<span style="font-weight:400">Two girls could be seen, smiling happily as they kissed the cheeks of a third. It was her and her lovers. A happy moment, shared. She had shared the same moment an infinite number of times. It wasn’t unique, it wasn’t special… yet… she couldn’t help but smile.
<span style="font-weight:400">Dull may her emotions be yet that tinge of happiness, that singr tinge of love. It was what always got her willing to continue. It was what made her go back. It was why she was willing to repeat her life in that world an infinite amount of times. Because no matter how many times she felt it, no matter how dull those feelings may be, they would always be there. Like she would always remain.
<span style="font-weight:400">Taking hold of her concept she once again did what she had done so many times before. She gathered the pieces before cing them back together. The world had shattered, it would never be the same. What is broken could never be fully repaired. It didn’t matter though. Everything would change and yet, it would remain the same.
<span style="font-weight:400">Closing her eyes, she chose to go back to sleep. This time it would be different. It wouldn’t be like the slumber she experienced whenever this story began. No, it would be light. She would remain the same, yet she would change. It would be something like a lucid dream. It would make it less enjoyable perhaps, but for as long as she had them, it didn’t matter.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Hinata, Nozomi, I am back.” She smiled, as she opened her eyes, ready to give this dream the end it deserves, a life well lived.