The Deep

Anyways. There is something about everything that fascinates me. That is, not all things individually, but everything as a whole. In my head I call it The All, sometimes The Thin, or, The Skin of The Deep. While The All ought to be a fitting name from whichever angle you look at it I confess the other two names give rise to some speculation. If the observable reality is The Thin, then, what the heck is The Deep?
I usually think of it like this — Stephen King describes something in his books which he calls The Darkness between Worlds. Maybe that is what The Deep is.
Whatever it is, I sometimes imagine it to be there, our mainly three-dimensional existence stretched like a drum skin over whatever it is that constitutes the drum. And if that drum is beating, well, we would not even notice. It would be like trying to imagine a hypercube, no, like actually experiencing the touch of a hypercube, all equal sides and 90-degree angles in all it's multi-dimensional glory. Madness.
Thus my earlier "anyways".
 
Heck, prose can never explain this stuff. I will just post the poem now.


i defy reality
i am a fiber in the skein of the Thin
my curiosity shatteres hopes
dreamkiller
i donned the crown of hegemony
there is no one but me in the halls of recollection
the sand of amnesia was rubbed into the skin of the Deep
i defy sleep
pluck electrons from my synapses
watch me reel among the prophets
the wine of pan-humanity was weighed on the scales
i am found wanting
i tread abstraction
the skin weave has been rolled in blood
i am above below within, a tesseract a hypersphere beyond your understanding
hush now
you all come bearing gifts
i refuse you all
i blink and you are gone
i suckled at the breast of a wolf, i was sneezed by a god
i am infinetisimal and vast
a string is found among a trillion, a drop in chosen from the ocean
mercy measured in oblivion, the weight is true i cannot lie
i am the smallest and the swiftest
all fear the Deep but i
i saw your empires and glory
the spittle of my laughter broke them all
i dont need you
there is no love among bacteria
for me there is nothing
all is dreamt
thus all has passed
during the dance of revelation all is known
we leave behind us broken pieces of the toy