if i were to write a novel of alum and endel

i believe that the world is a universe of scattered souls on the base of nonexistence— that our lives are individual spheres and we start off living in our very own planets as a beginning. i believe we enter different people’s lives at different points of time, making their worlds alternative homes for our souls, where different, small parts of ourselves co-exist in different worlds. i wonder if leaving their lives means jumping off the cliffs of their spheres, and maybe at some point you slip off the edge of everyone else’s worlds, and maybe everyone else leaps off yours, concomitantly or otherwise. all the parts you put entrusted in their planets are left behind, and your only home is the one you started off with, now littered with unwanted, shattered silhouettes left behind by the people who left you behind. and at the end of it all, your world merely exists as a small part of you, severed from the wholeness of the planet you started off as, left shivering and naked on the frore nothingness of this universe. is that final emptiness the reason some of us crawl off the edges of our own planets, in the end?

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