It doesn't matter what this means to me. What I want is to hear what it means to you.

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There’s no moon in this place. They think the desert is the highway across the gulf, but they’re wrong. They call themselves engineers of time, or at least that’s what I hear from inside their consciousness. I’m a fluke, I’m a change, I’m a black dot on the plane. When I find water, it turns out to be hot air, yet I want the thirst, not the survival. When winter comes in this place, suddenly you wish you had fur instead of skin. That’s what they wish, yet I only wish they would see the reality of where we stand. This is the world without time, this is the bridge, the dreams into an internet heaven. Do they see that gift? Only some. I do. I work to see beyond human eyes, try to live in a place where all stands still, and only changes when the clock turns backwards. I will make time go extinct, for it is my power within my place. So why is it a desert? Why me, of all people, could get lost in it? I’m walking toward a structure, but it may just be more water.
Everything is blank. That’s how it always starts. You wake down, a unique term that must be deducted. I am not at the surface, where the sun never fails, or where the moon always phases. That place where every axiom is constant and unbending. How could I do anything else past that barrier between here and there? I must be here. If it has to be that way, it will have to be blank, otherwise no creation can follow. The first thing I want to see is the sky, but instead I find a flat surface, I feel gravity, but see no ground below my feet. All there is, is a white glow, just like from above. Here light is the ultimate force. All I see is me and the thing that is me possesses no color, no form, not even a gaseous presence. It is the mostly blank world. If only I could turn back to before I was born, before I became addicted to my world, where everything was constant, everything was unbreakable. Perhaps then I could truly start in pure white. But yes, even white itself is a thing, a thing I learned and perceived the moment I opened eyes. Blankness is a word, on I learned back in a time I can’t remember. The word remains, the moment escapes me.
I have hands, limbs, feet, toes, and fingers. It’s nearly complete to my fright and disappointment. I’m still trapped, still bound inside this form. I am still within my repulsive humanity. How on earth, or beyond earth could I change this? Was what I saw merely another mirage? I can’t believe that. No law in here is indestructible. It wouldn’t be here if it they weren’t. But I desire it. I have felt it in the circuitry of my mind. A moon seen only by the blind. A howl that echoes without a decibel. I see a beautiful black shadow. Dream with me. I have given up on my own strengths, so I must turn to what I’ve always turned to. I must learn, as you must have learned from the great network of knowledge out in that vast, astronomical, more than astronomical space. Air is not present. There is no need. Light does not travel, there are no eyes. Nerves do not shiver, there are no fires or snowflakes. How many are there like me? Can any of them remember?