Shadows and Chains

The shadows of the twilight realm criss-cross through the waking world. You find yourself walking strange, nameless paths : under canopied forests, floors of which have not known light for ages unrecounted ; struggling over pine clad mountain slopes, slipping on the verglass, drinking from the icy streams; beaten down by the unrelenting malice of the raging sun in parched lands blasted to desolation by design or devilry beyond your waking or dreaming imagination.
Then, in an instant, the unfamiliarity fades away into lands, towns, and streets you know well. Familiar faces clog your vision…well, faces that should have been familiar. Something is different . The smiles warm not your heart, the casual friendly banter springs back off you like leaden darts, off armour forged by the lame smith. The meat and bread hold no taste….even the beloved rum seems strangely queer. An undeniable alienation envelops you amidst these phantom shapes in this seemingly phantom land. You seek desperately for some semblance of reality, but what is a dream and what is real – the boundaries have faded , well nigh irrevocably.
Why is everything so unfamiliar ? Are they unfamiliar?
The reality dawns. You have trodden paths from which mortals may scarce emerge unscathed.
“The higher you are, the further you fall…the longer the walk, the farther you crawl”
The words hit home with a chill. Nothing has changed, save perhaps you., so much so that the waking world which succours you seems an overwhelming burden. For a moment you toy with the idea of severing this burdensome cord….but something recalls Nietzsche to you, and his discourse on life and knowledge…and annihilation.
What then should your recourse be?
The Bifrost gleams invitingly…but mortals may not leave the grey lands of Midgard however weary they seem. In Asgard you would tire and fade away in an instant, like moths before a flame too strong.

“Mirror! Mirror! On the wall,
True hope lies beyond the coast.
You’re a damned kind can’t you see,
The tomorrow bears insanity”

Chains and shackles have scared you from your childhood days. You have forever refused to be bound. Some chains are inescapable- life is the most burdensome of them all , and all others are secured to it. However, not all is lost, there are many chains you may yet stave off; indeed many you have successfully done. They say, not all chains are evil ; every man must at a time grow roots deep into the earth and drink of the ancient wells. Somehow, all this talk of growing and digging does not appeal to you. You would sooner take wing, from airy bower to some distant mountain crag….
….but does it serve to think and speak of wings and flight, when all about you are growing roots.
Amidst such quagmires, you find no answers, ….but maybe we shall get some soon . Oh, yes! Indeed …maybe we shall , my precious!!!

“There are times,
When all the world’s asleep;
The questions run too deep,
For such a simple mind”