Written by Joshua CD Robinson
Photo: © Depositphotos.com/Frenzelll

I thought I died once. It went like this, suddenly, I’m stuck in that space.  I’m stuck there and I start to lift up, sorta levitate out of my body, and as I’m rising out of my body, as my soul separates from the

corporeal.  I become aware of how very much alive I am, how much this isn’t death, and the moment I think. I’m Alive! Dammit, Yes! I’m Alive! As soon as that happens, I’m sucked

into a vacuum of space.  I’m catapulted through a tunnel, an upward tunnel that looks everything like a kaleidoscope. Only, I’m not looking through a window into a mess of color

and light.  I’m looking right through that edge of never.  It’s no black curtain, it’s this orgy of color and light, and this sound, this sound that’s just getting louder and

louder, bigger and bigger, until it’s a shattering vibration running through my bones.  It’s pulling me apart, and I’m screaming trying to make it stop, only my scream doesn’t

come out because I don’t have a mouth, throat, or vocal cords to scream with. I’m shattered everywhere, and this shattering vibration turns to pleasure.  And suddenly I am

this vibration this screaming.  It’s the voice of God, I know it’s the voice of God and it will kill me, but I don’t care because it feels so damn good.  The vibrating colors

that are me are rushing toward the end of this tunnel, where there’s nothing but bright white light, I rush so fast that I’m pulled out into an endless expanse of white

vibrating energy.  Just endless light on light, yellow charged hues of buzzing molecules.  I feel like infinity and nothingness, an infinite small point and an endless

expanse at the same time.  I’m everywhere and nowhere and all the places in between, and it feels so good.
It feels the way it feels with a loved one. It feels like that, and then I realize this can’t last forever, or I’ll die.  I don’t want to die, I want to live.  And when I know that I rush back out of the

light, through the kaleidoscope tunnel, through the lack of body, and my soul… there’s no other way to describe this.  My soul slams into my body, and I’m awake and staring at

the ceiling, and I can’t move or breathe.  I fear I must still be alive.  I can’t move a muscle, I can’t breathe, and then slowly inch by inch, I move my hand, and my foot, then

I sit bolt straight up.  I’ve experienced something cosmic, something unexplainable.  I’ve seen the white light. I’ve seen what’s beyond that great black curtain, that edge of

never.  Certainly that’s what happens when we die.  Certainly that’s it! Becoming and knowing everything, and feeling such peace with it. such energy. Breathing

everything into your lungs and exhaling just the same, exhaling that vibrating soft white, yellow glow.  Forever being a part of the peace which surpasses all

understanding.  Diving into it, becoming it.  That’s the reward for living this brutal life.  Or living some comfortable life.  Or, living a life that’s just so-so

making ends meet.  For living, that’s our reward.  It felt so good.  Here I am dead finally.
Nirvana.
And love.
That’s true.
That.
That, will always be true.
And the walk across the bridge.
And the cigarettes and the gum.
And the notes.
And the lipstick against my cheek.
And I guess, I guess after all it’s so true.  So much of it is true.  Hell maybe all of it is.  Maybe I don’t lie.  Maybe everything I say is true.
Truth.  Capital T Truth.
All of it.
All this honey poured all over you!

Honey!
And Kaleidoscopes.
Nirvana.
And Gum.
And Cigarettes.
And endless expanses of blinding light and peace.

I love you.
I’ve missed you.
I love every single one of you.
Do me a favor, follow me.

You’re all still alive.
Just.
Just.
Follow, me.

 

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Joshua CD Robinson has been writing creatively since a very young age. He has written plays, poems, short stories, and news articles for a variety of publications. He likes your guts.