Demonic Experiments: We Think We Rise, We See Us Fall

We go up and down stairs without remorse for the violence we use to justify ourselves. There is an inexplicable difference in size between what we see above and what we see below. It was as if the inhabitants of the two floors had fallen here from different realms, and the cold air coming in through the different sized holes they had drilled in the roof was making us lose our minds. This cold, hard to resist but perhaps simple enough to be solved with a few thick clothes, bombardment of delusions makes us sleepy. I feel as if an unfamiliar but familiar smell has surrounded us and we are fighting with all our might not to take shelter in it. I fell asleep while others were observing and looking for a solution.



Like every day, I awoke to the noise of giants rolling down the stairs. The spittle that poured from the corner of my mouth turned into a poisonous liquid that has pushed every sentence to this day into negativity. I wiped the corner of my mouth and lifted my numb head, as heavy as a concrete block, to look up at the roof again. The number of holes had increased, and the scars left by the fallen on the floor of each floor deepened. This time, the liquids trickling down the railings of the stairs smelled more sharply. I wonder what those who saw people like me sleeping peacefully as they fell, were thinking? What memories came to mind as they fell from such a height? Even if they knew where the fall began, could they predict the speed they gained as they neared the end? How many bones were broken when they hit the roof? And how many seconds did their eyes stay open when they reached the ground, the surface that we couldn't see from here, but where they tasted it?

June, 2023 paper collage // by Demon Ego