Old Unreliable

So folks may or may not have noticed I've been sort of drifting in and out of scenes like some ghost lately. Perhaps the most noticiable being Purnima's excitement about a birthday party, and then no more posts about it.

Muffy, my grandmother's cat, is very ill and is dieing. She's a mixbreed Maine Coon at the ripe old age of ninteen years. So no one can argue that she hasn't had a good run. But it's upsetting all the same. Especially for my Grandmother, and I practically grew up beside that cat. Cantankerous prideful thing that she is, as cat are, I love her and I'll miss her. Loosing a pet is always hard, and loosing anyone is taxing through a long procees like this.

Anyway, getting back on track here. I've been busy taking care of an invalid Muffy and helping my Grandmother through the process of saying goodbye. So a lot of the time, I'm either suddenly too busy or just in no mood to write. Perhaps the feelings it dredges up are of the decline and death of my dear dog Sammy nearly half a year ago. I've lost pets before, but that one hurt. She was my baby.

But forgive my meangerings. In short: I've been busy, not feeling like writing, and I'm throwing this up 'cuz it's my darn blog and maybe it'll give me a little closure for Sammy's death.


PS,

Oh right. The flooding in the basement has been fixed now as well. Tree roots getting in the sewer lines in hot weather like its been, looking for water. Carpet has been thoroughly shampooed, thank you Rug Doctor. Now to get everything back together.

Swamp Livin'

Well, my basement appears to have flooded. It's not supposed to do that. The basement is carpeted. The flood seems to have orgininated from a faulty air conditioner, and the flood started because some dirt clogged the drain that's there in case something like this happens. Today shall be a slipper day.

Le Sigh.

Circle

All Slappy's arm can do is delay the inevitable, as Alice shredded it like a buzz saw. All the while her mouth opened ever wider.

But then the buzzing sound stops, as the last of Slappy's arm is destroyed.

Alice's Eldritch maw creaks to a final stop.

All Slappy can do is look.

 :siren: WARNING: DISTURBING, UN-NUNLIKE BEHAVIOR AHEAD :siren:

It is to his great relief to see absolutely nothing.

Well not nothing. Well, yes...but not nothing, like say...the dark, or something you can't see. It's nothing that's not there.

Slappy's eyebrows screw together in irritation as it tries to relate what its seeing into some form of coherency.

And that's all it took. Sometimes you stare into the void. Sometimes it stares back.

The walls suddenly got a lot farther away, or Alice's maw got a lot closer. And bigger. But that was only a passing thought in the back of its mind as it stared into the nothing encroaching through the floor, the walls. The nothing creeped over it all. Then the bar was nothing. The city was nothing. The state was nothing. The continent was nothing. And then the world was nothing.

Slappy found himself in floating in the void of space, with no discernible landmarks as the solar system faded around him. But then he realized.

He wasn't seeing nothing. He was seeing everything.

He could see forever. Past suns, moons, galaxies, sight keeping with the ever expanding universe.

And he was so small.

He could see things living out there beyond time and space. Old, and new Gods and Aberrations. He was little more than a speck in their eye. And then there were the things they were buts specks in the eyes of. And so on. And so on. And so on. And so on. And so on. And so on. And so on And so on And so on And so onAndsoonAndsoonAndsoonAndsoonAndsoonAndsoonAndsoonAndsoonAndsoonandsooonandsoonand

Existence stopped. The universe's expansion ground to a halt.

And then existence started retracting in on itself.

And he could see it all.

Alien civilizations collapsing as their native planets were ground into nothing more than handfuls of dust. Their technology useless. Their magic useless. Heroic act after heroic act meaningless. Heroes and cowards tried to change their fate. They failed. Mothers threw themselves over children, to use their own bodies as shields. They failed. So they turned to their Gods as the stars extinguished around them. And so the Gods took a stand. And they died, even they impotent against nothing. And with them, the souls of their followers spilled out from their respective sanctuaries and dissolved into nothing. Or didn't. And then the sanctuary collapsed into nothing, taking the souls it contained with it into non-existence.

And then the cycle repeated in the next galaxy. And repeated. And repeated. And repeated. Andrepeatedandrepeatedandrepeatedadnreapeatedandrepeatedandrepeatedandrepeatedandrepeatedand

He was back in his solar system. Just in time to see Pluto collapse into a grain of ice. Neptune dissolved into a tears worth of mist. Uransus crushed smaller than a soda can top. Saturn decimated. Even the remains of Jupiter would have fit in a teaspoon.

And then there was Earth. And then the Earth became nothing.

And everyone who could have known or known of Slappy ceased to exist. Everywhere Slappy had been or could have been ceased to exist. And all of Slappy's mark on the world ceased to exist.

Because there was no Earth. And then the Sun drizzled out into darkness.

But the universe kept folding in on itself. It pressed and pressed and pressed and pressed together until there was no universe anymore.

Slappy's actions don't matter. You don't matter. Anything you could with meager amount of time you have before you die is meaningless. In two generations you would be a memory. In three generations no one would know who you really were. Paintings and books fade. Statues crack. The internet was nothing to begin with, and merely returns back to it.

In the end, there can be only nothing.

And he can still see everything that is nothing even thought there is no light and he wants to tear out his eyes to just make it at all stop and he matters he matters but he can't do anything because he has no hands and he must scream but he has no mouth and

Bye, Slappy.

Condemned to a fate beyond the imagination of the most twisted individual., Slappy became nothing. Except his conscious. Which was now condemned to roam and be the only tiny grain of something in an eternity of nothing with no foreseeable end in sight.

He would grow mad. And then go all the way through back to sane again. Only to fall to insanity once more.

And repeat.