Incubus

we did not yet see things very clearly back then there was the fear of the sun that would swallow the earth four billion years from now and we knew that dinosaurs had existed longer than humans have, it kept the world in check   we could pull ourselves along, from fear to fear like imagining pulling the shore towards you on a ferry, determining your coordinates based on reclaimed islands full of apartment buildings and hotels   there is a chance that our universe is a cell in the body of a giant, a foolish and ape-like being in a cave, that you’re looking in the mirror, without recognising a human in yourself, that you’re slowly growing out of your body, stepping out of every night that an evil spirit visits you in your sleep and possesses you   we sat in ball pits at birthday parties told each other ghost stories: make sure you're never awake at midnight, and if you find yourself awake still, hide under the blankets, or the dead will come get you   I just wish someone had warned me about the immeasurability of days, wild but void gestures, guilt and resentment, the realisation of being one of the others, pointless but full of mortal dread: that you will simply lie in bed with still everything to fear