One question burns in my consciousness… is this healing?
Why can’t I tell? My mind paces.
…
It shuts off, fallen into complete nothingness. No floor… No ceiling.
I feel eyes watching me, as if from hundreds of angels’ faces.
But this is no look of salvation from something holy.
I feel nothing but the void itself. Something isn’t right here.
…
A wash of pain like bleach on a papercut caresses my skin coldly.
I feel my bones cracking, my skin pierced.
My mind races as I sit here…
…
…
…
I can’t stay…
…
…
…
My mind opens, sliced through like a hot knife through plastic.
And I hear it… it’s telling me to stay in this place.
…
“You are safe here little one… you have nothing to fear”
“But this pain…”
“There is no pain in the void little one. Let go, fall into it”
“...no”
…
The angel is broken. Shattered into little plastic fragments.
Its wings float gently in the air above.
Lowering slowly to meet my shoulder blades…
Another rush of pain as taut lines of fabric burrow deep in my skin.
New muscles, sinews never used before, make themselves known.
And though I can’t tell where the ground is, I know I’m above it.
And my eyes widen.
…
I’m back. Lost again in the chaos.
With just one question burning in my consciousness.
J̵̡̥̗̖̗͎̥̙̮̳̀̍͂̌̚ẽ̵̙̟̄̑̄̇́̔͌͝͠s̵̯͔͔̲̐s̷̫͑̎e̵͕͊̉̒̈́̄́͝ ̴̛̼̻̋̉̂̆͂̽̈̊̀S̷̺̰͔̞̠͐͒́̉̉̓͠͝ò̸͔̬̥̽͂ͅl̸̡̄̾̉́̏͝ę̸̰̈́̅͛̔͆̾̓͆i̶̲̥̣͇̎̎̌̂͘͝͝l̸̞͇̞̪̳͑̿̃̽̄̾̏̽'̴̤̺̫͉̃͊͐̏̈́̔̔̈̑̕s̷͚̼̪̐̋̐̂ ̷̡̛̦͚̗̻̟̠̥͛̽̈́̍̈́͐̌͋͜͝p̴̝̊̔̾ę̸͙̱̭̓̂̅͑r̵̞͕͔̘̈͊̕m̸͉̩̮̪̪̱̞̟͇͕̉̍́̃͛́̾͝a̴̛̖̳͕̫̱̗͓̖͋̚̚n̶̻̓̔̄̓̎ę̴̯͙̓̀͗͛n̸̬̾̀̎̆ẗ̵̛͎͉̩̟́̿̀͗̑ ̸̨̛͓̝̹̄͆͒͋͊̽̅͗̕ḁ̸̲̝̖̣̞̼̲̙͒̏̌͝͠r̷̲̭̜̿ţ̶̠̆́̐̚ ̴̮̟̓̒͂͌́͂ĺ̵̼̪͚͇͙͎̽̃̉̌̚̕͘͝ͅi̸̟̦̮̦̹̝̙͈̋̾̍̃̾̕͝b̵̺͖̹̗̖̥̬̔̎́͗͊͘͘ͅŗ̸͈̉̀͑̀͌a̴̛̜͓͓̖̦͍̭͈̽́̀͘͠ͅr̶̜̉̕y̶̛̞̖͙̪͑̈́̋͐͆̿̅̇.̴̨͆̆͗͐͗͗̓͝͝
l̷͕͇͚̘̬͗̓͠o̵̙͙̗͉͈̜̩̮̣̽̂͐͂͜s̴̢͕̝͙͖̪͓̔̂̀̄̓̇t̴̝̗͆̈́͛̇͒̎̚͝ ̷̛͈̱̥͍̱́̃́̋̋͘ŕ̷̙̥͓̻̈́̀̕ẽ̷̛̛̬̳̆̽͊̕͝͝c̵̯̗̅͂̉͛̆͌͘͘͠ͅo̵̧̩̞͎̤̟͕̅̒̂r̶̥͓̻̬̤̹̗̲͐͒͌̒̕d̸̡̰͔̼̘̜̞͛̆̿̍i̷̛͙̩͉̰̿͝n̷̢̺̋͆͌ġ̸̫͔̺̤͙̤ ̸̨̬̫͈̪̲̹̓#̵͖̤̇̔͌͒͂͑̿̈́͐͠0̵̖̥͇̜̂͑͗̈̍̒0̷̱̤̙̯̗͈̃͑͒̇̈̀͜͠͠1̴̧̭͍̖̗͔̆͂͌ #12/12
- 價格美元價格數量到期日從
- 價格美元價格數量底價差額到期日從
l̷͕͇͚̘̬͗̓͠o̵̙͙̗͉͈̜̩̮̣̽̂͐͂͜s̴̢͕̝͙͖̪͓̔̂̀̄̓̇t̴̝̗͆̈́͛̇͒̎̚͝ ̷̛͈̱̥͍̱́̃́̋̋͘ŕ̷̙̥͓̻̈́̀̕ẽ̷̛̛̬̳̆̽͊̕͝͝c̵̯̗̅͂̉͛̆͌͘͘͠ͅo̵̧̩̞͎̤̟͕̅̒̂r̶̥͓̻̬̤̹̗̲͐͒͌̒̕d̸̡̰͔̼̘̜̞͛̆̿̍i̷̛͙̩͉̰̿͝n̷̢̺̋͆͌ġ̸̫͔̺̤͙̤ ̸̨̬̫͈̪̲̹̓#̵͖̤̇̔͌͒͂͑̿̈́͐͠0̵̖̥͇̜̂͑͗̈̍̒0̷̱̤̙̯̗͈̃͑͒̇̈̀͜͠͠1̴̧̭͍̖̗͔̆͂͌ #12/12
- 價格美元價格數量到期日從
- 價格美元價格數量底價差額到期日從
One question burns in my consciousness… is this healing?
Why can’t I tell? My mind paces.
…
It shuts off, fallen into complete nothingness. No floor… No ceiling.
I feel eyes watching me, as if from hundreds of angels’ faces.
But this is no look of salvation from something holy.
I feel nothing but the void itself. Something isn’t right here.
…
A wash of pain like bleach on a papercut caresses my skin coldly.
I feel my bones cracking, my skin pierced.
My mind races as I sit here…
…
…
…
I can’t stay…
…
…
…
My mind opens, sliced through like a hot knife through plastic.
And I hear it… it’s telling me to stay in this place.
…
“You are safe here little one… you have nothing to fear”
“But this pain…”
“There is no pain in the void little one. Let go, fall into it”
“...no”
…
The angel is broken. Shattered into little plastic fragments.
Its wings float gently in the air above.
Lowering slowly to meet my shoulder blades…
Another rush of pain as taut lines of fabric burrow deep in my skin.
New muscles, sinews never used before, make themselves known.
And though I can’t tell where the ground is, I know I’m above it.
And my eyes widen.
…
I’m back. Lost again in the chaos.
With just one question burning in my consciousness.
J̵̡̥̗̖̗͎̥̙̮̳̀̍͂̌̚ẽ̵̙̟̄̑̄̇́̔͌͝͠s̵̯͔͔̲̐s̷̫͑̎e̵͕͊̉̒̈́̄́͝ ̴̛̼̻̋̉̂̆͂̽̈̊̀S̷̺̰͔̞̠͐͒́̉̉̓͠͝ò̸͔̬̥̽͂ͅl̸̡̄̾̉́̏͝ę̸̰̈́̅͛̔͆̾̓͆i̶̲̥̣͇̎̎̌̂͘͝͝l̸̞͇̞̪̳͑̿̃̽̄̾̏̽'̴̤̺̫͉̃͊͐̏̈́̔̔̈̑̕s̷͚̼̪̐̋̐̂ ̷̡̛̦͚̗̻̟̠̥͛̽̈́̍̈́͐̌͋͜͝p̴̝̊̔̾ę̸͙̱̭̓̂̅͑r̵̞͕͔̘̈͊̕m̸͉̩̮̪̪̱̞̟͇͕̉̍́̃͛́̾͝a̴̛̖̳͕̫̱̗͓̖͋̚̚n̶̻̓̔̄̓̎ę̴̯͙̓̀͗͛n̸̬̾̀̎̆ẗ̵̛͎͉̩̟́̿̀͗̑ ̸̨̛͓̝̹̄͆͒͋͊̽̅͗̕ḁ̸̲̝̖̣̞̼̲̙͒̏̌͝͠r̷̲̭̜̿ţ̶̠̆́̐̚ ̴̮̟̓̒͂͌́͂ĺ̵̼̪͚͇͙͎̽̃̉̌̚̕͘͝ͅi̸̟̦̮̦̹̝̙͈̋̾̍̃̾̕͝b̵̺͖̹̗̖̥̬̔̎́͗͊͘͘ͅŗ̸͈̉̀͑̀͌a̴̛̜͓͓̖̦͍̭͈̽́̀͘͠ͅr̶̜̉̕y̶̛̞̖͙̪͑̈́̋͐͆̿̅̇.̴̨͆̆͗͐͗͗̓͝͝