Blind Doors

Door, door, door, door, hallway, door, hallway, door, and finally, another door. Door is such a funny word. Well, every word becomes funny when you say it enough, and I have said this one too much. 

I don’t know how long I have been in this maze of a hell. Waking up here was disorienting, but the moments after were more so. 

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My eyes slowly opened, like a creaking door or a particularly frustrating set of window blinds. My mind was slipping. Lucidity took hold and my brain snapped into its normal state. This was a strangely limbonic period, where my mind wandered into thoughts as if on slippery ice. My feet slid and slipped to more rational places, but not smoothly. My heartbeat receded from my eardrums and simply became a rumbling of an engine inside my chest, no longer drowning my sonic senses. 

After moments of disorientation, I finally took in my scene. 

Picturesque.

That is my simple thought: picturesque. If only I knew of the hellscape I was truly in. The carpet under my ass was a beautifully decorated piece of art. It spanned the width of the hallway. It even spanned the length of the hallway, further and further, until I could not see. 

Wait. What the fuck.

The hallway slowly drifted to grey to black, without any scene further. Some sort of fog of war? 

Weird.

Under the carpet was a stonework of beauty, with reflective marble shining with a swirl of black and white. The walls were draped with art and statues and paintings and sculptures and portraits and so much shit. Like, so much. Each piece of decoration adorned was equidistant apart--perhaps a few feet or so--until a doorway appeared. The walls behind the art was made of dark brown wooden planks. When looking extra close and touching a wall, where my fingers threaded the space between a statue of a man and a sculpture of a dolphin jumping of water, I felt grooves in the wall and saw the shape of magnolia flowers lining the surface.

Pretty… fucking weird.

I stood up. Bolted up, really. I ran. You may judge me on this particular action, because yeah, I should’ve acted slowly and cautiously, but that is not who I am. I ran into the blackness, which somehow faded into a regular view and receded equally as I ran. The hallway lined the… hallway. It just kept going forever. 

Okay fuck this.

I opened a door and ran through. 

Oh my god…

Another hallway, or the same one, was in my view. I turned around to the door I had just opened a foot back.

Annnnd it’s gone. 

The hallway stared back at me. Seriously, the door was gone, and no, I am not crazy. Well, I think I am now, but I wasn’t then. Finally, I took in my situation and moved with rationality instead of irrationality. Just kidding! I fucking ran again. I just kept running. I actually don’t remember why I did it. I think I was just so bored and I couldn’t believe this cliche-ass situation I was in. This moment was like dealing with a kid who always asked why. Okay, okay, I was that kid, and I don’t fault them for their infinite curiosity, but they can be annoying. There comes a point in a kid’s line of questioning where you simply lose all ethics and just try to escape. So yeah, the kid asks why you need to leave and you flat out tell the little dude that you need to go fuck your girlfriend who is back at your house. Okay, don’t look at my writing like that, I can feel your judgement through the walls. I was particularly tired that day and I regret that line of wording. I am getting off-track--basically, I was already so tired with this bullshit hallway that I told my reality a stern and uncaring truth:

Gotta blast.

I just ran. I opened a door, another door, another door, another door… yeah, you get where I’m going. This whole shindig continued until I opened a door and found myself staring at someone. 

Wait, holy shit, that’s me!

Now this was fucking weird, but I saw the back of myself, looking into a doorway in the same hallway, looking at myself looking at myself. This is where it gets more trippy, I slowly turned my head and body and… Yeah I was looking at my back again. I expected to see myself staring at myself, face to face, but obviously I would just be looking at my own back again. That was a moment of stupidity. It did shake me out of my state of silly though. I just laughed. How silly. How so silly. I walked through the door and closed it. 

I just have to keep going…

I thought stupidly. Thinking I was some sort of protagonist, I knew the exit would be found at some point. All I had to do was put together clues and discover my escape! Yeah, no, that was 10 years ago. I found a calendar in the hallway with a day marked, which continued to be marked the next day, every day, whenever I found it. I use it for tracking time. I don’t need to eat or shit or drink or sleep or anything here. I think I am in some circle of hell, I don’t really know, but I have learned to accept it. There was a marble statue a few… months back(?) which I took a finger off of. I use it to scrawl on the walls. That is how I write this. That is how you read this, if someone ever does. 

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