My name is Oliver Clean, and for the last 500 years, I’ve been stranded on an Island. Separate from other human beings, and civilization as a whole, there was little to experience but my own self.
And then I returned.
And shit happened.
And now I’ve got just one question. To God, or whatever… thing… created this universe, with me in it:
How do you un-experience something?
I mean, in one moment you are watching Morpheus waving you over from that other building. You close your eyes, you say to yourself “You can do this! You can do this! “. You feel the wind on your cheeks, as you find yourself running towards that edge… And then you jump… And for a few moments in time, you feel like you can fly. You have this incredible, live-changing experience, moving weightless through the air like a fucking albatross…
And then you sense: Gravitation!
Only a slight pull at first, it rapidly evolves into an insurmountable force… And you start falling, accelerating towards a place that can mean only one thing: Your total destruction.
All the happy feeling from a second ago, all the enthusiasm and high hopes – they turn to panic. You see the ground getting closer at high speed, and there is nothing you can do! Nothing!
Horror overwhelms you, and you loose all your senses to it.
When you open your eyes again, it’s late night. Your wrecked body is lying in some abandoned side alley that floods your just reawakened senses with sounds of rolling bottles and smells of booze and urine. The pale moon above you is smirking at your face, its lips silently forming familiar words:
“You stupid motherfucker!“
You blink, and a few tiny stars seem to blink back.
Then your molecules start to reconstruct, and your physical appearance slowly regains shape. In authority of your muscles again, you are able to stand up and drag yourself home.
You know the drill. You limp, you choke, you puke, you spit blood. But by the end of the night, your body will have recovered to a point that nobody will be able to tell what happened to you just now.
Yay! Ain’t that peachy?
However the memory of the event remains. It has become a part of your bone structure, of your organ tissue, of your whole existence. You are now stuck with it forever like with an evil Siamese twin.
How do you accept that?
How do you not want that undo button now?
My name is Oliver Clean. I’m usually The Grim Arrow. Tonight? No idea.
I think I’ll have some of that booze now. Bartender!