Mid-range sine waves whir in my ears. There is the momentary sensation of eye muscles being taut, and I chide myself gently, and let them go. The deepness is deepening.
I sit quietly on the grass of a tiny island, emotionless and barren. It is lost within endless ocean. There are no birds, no animals at all. Only me.
To my right is a forest, small but dense. I know nothing of what lies beyond it. To my left, a grassy hill rises up at the edge of the island, where an old lighthouse stands alone, its white paint peeling off in places. A narrow dirt path ascends towards the door.
I stand up and decide it’s time to look inside the lighthouse. It takes a long time to walk up the track. The persistant thoughts become pain in my legs and I have to stop for a rest every few steps. It is almost sunset. Finally, at the dark red door, I stand and prepare myself. A minute passes. Suddenly I realise that it’s no longer important to enter: sometimes, things are most beautiful when left undiscovered. I consider this, and smile at the irony.
I walk back down the hill and return to my spot, assuming the half-lotus position as I look out to sea. This is the end of the world. There is nothing here except me and this island. I am alone. Voices stir in the distance and carry off, vibrations from another realm. They do not belong here. There is only room for grass, sand, trees, water and sky, and the lighthouse which holds a secret I will never know. I stare at the horizon and wait for the sun to make its exit. The stark freedom humbles me. I am ready to die here.