Beyond Sight

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I can barely recall who said that. I’m here, though, I guess that’s all that matters. This place is like a wrapping darkness, dressed in twinkling lights and shooting stars. It sounds so pleasing, but I’m floating in a silver gown with a helmet that serves me as my living promise of tomorrow.

I recall not how I arrived, it’s all so mysterious. As I dive through memories in my mind, I remember I climbed mountains and slid through cracks. I saw tall elevations of guilt and almost drowned in rivers of neglectful tears. I tasted bitterness in my mouth as I crawled through what felt like pebbled ground; sadness crept over my skin as I tried to rid myself of dark recollections of me. I felt life and lifeless at the same time.

“Could this be the afterlife?” – a voice asked – “The one so many speak of, yet no one returns to confirm its existence.”

This voice, I’m not sure where it came from, and as I traveled farther it dissipated with the hollowing echo of silence. As I ready myself to land on a new planet, I remember like a distant sound the closeness of warmth and the welcoming gift of touch, but disconnection overcame very quickly. I know I had friends, but they are now nowhere to be seen, found, felt. Where have they gone?

I heard a breeze of whispers telling me to keep walking and I will find myself again. Am I lost? Or is this the place I should be found? Like a soul that enters eternity and never looks back. And how do I walk? I cannot walk where I can only float. I now drift in laced darkness where loneliness and emptiness brim together like playful children.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me?” – I asked reluctantly aloud – No, right. I forgot. Nobody can hear in the vacuum of space, I recalled. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear an answer, anyway. It would be strange to find someone living in such a lonely and dark place.

As I hovered this new place, I could see latent curiosity between strange greenery. I could hear a sound that reminded me of something. What was it? It felt so familiar. Have I been here before? Suddenly, and again, I felt like it was time to go. But where this time? Isn’t this how it all started? I feel like it never ends.

As tears trickled down my face, I came to the realisation that I didn’t know where I was heading. Flashes of memories started puncturing me like bullets through my body, and like shattering glass I broke into a million pieces, a million tears, I crumbled slowly yet so suddenly. I felt safe until so many voices spoke, and I understood nothing. I escaped the voices and didn’t follow directions, and here I am again.

“Planet Perdida is a place to arrive with no directions” – said that voice again.

“No one would want to be here by free will” – she spoke once more.

Running away guided me here, a place where stars light up the sky, planets cannot be seen, and home is nowhere to be found. I closed my eyes, I opened my eyes, and it was like a dream. I was still there, nothing holding me, nothing pushing me, it was as if some unknown force was keeping me there, stuck in emptiness, stuck in movement that I did not want but needed at the same time.

I’ve heard of this place before. Planet Perdida, a place for the loss to never be found again. I was in this voyage to this place, unclear about the purpose. Am I going there to leave my loss or to face it? Will I be facing the depths of loss on my own? Or will there be someone waiting for me upon my arrival? Planet Perdida sounded like a place where hope was nurtured to believe that there would be no more loss to carry, like a depository where people go to leave their sadness and return lighter, happier. I wondered if where I was heading had room for more sadness because I felt I could hold no more. If not, where could I go?