fihi ma fihi - farsi

You’re always there. Like a rubber band. Sometimes intense, sometimes mellow. But you are always there. Always in my head, even when I’m alone in my bed. I miss you, obviously. God, it hurts. I know what the other must have felt like. But i also don't. It’s different… If I can drown myself in work, I can stay distracted. When I don't have enough, or when I’m free, which I will be for two days this weekend, oh, that’s not going to be fun. I need to pick up another habit, a project maybe. Something that consumes my time when I have any. Work is fun, thought I’d update you. It’s like the depression - not that I believe in it :P - like my depression, the tide of it ebbs and flows. Sometimes it’s barely noticeable, I know it’s always there, and at other times, oh wow, other times, it threatens to put me under. Starving me of oxygen, vision slowly dampening, darkness flowing in, the circle of visibility decreasing. A ball, a pin, nothing. A throbbing headache growing stronger, a feeling of dread in your heart. You know? I don't know if I can explain this properly. It doesn’t hurt as much as it is a pain that’s always there? It’s bittersweet. I love the memories I had with you, those were incredible. Even as my heart is sinking, I smile because I am grateful for the time spent with you. Chalou, fihi ma fihi.

The sun shining high above, and yet below, the landscape was alone. Alone, devoid of life, any that still remained was struggling, scraping by. All others were gone, or were hiding, shivering with fear. The panic had come first, followed by widespread hysteria.

There is a train of thought. But first, a corollary, a fact. When parasites enter the system of a living being, it creates antibodies to fight them.

There had been panic, and there had been hysteria. The true nature of the beings that used to live here was then known. Selfish, ungrateful, uncaring. Mostly selfish. Those that had too much tried to grab even more. As if anything would help them. Those that didn’t have anything were left without, even then.

There is a train of thought. When the parasites grow too strong, when the living beings on a body larger than them start to destroy it, the body wipes them out.

Those that didn’t have anything were left to fend without anything. In the end though, it came for all of them. It wiped the slate clean. Ground, and stone, and marble, and wood. Not a trace remained. Maybe a few. Chosen at random, not because of some divine selection. Or maybe that was what it was. Maybe that is what it is. Divine selection is random. Maybe that’s why it’s divine. Loves all equally, the selfish and the selfless. It wiped it clean. A few remained. Life forms meant to start anew. And slowly, the bigger life form would heal. The one that the mayhem had been caused on.

There is a train of thought. When the people start to destroy Mother Earth, she wipes them out.