They poured a bowl of sunshine into my sawed top skull, and I could swear I felt a rainbow growing along my spine. Rays of pure energy shot from my pinned open eyes, roiling all reality around me into a marching boil of distortion. My hands became the tools of a great creator, shaping a Universe from the void. I was dashing mighty empires to tiny bits with my slightest thoughts, spanning all space and time on a whim, master of all cosmic power, slave to none.

My body becomes a shell, and the shell a prison. I drink from all the grails, each one turning my flesh into wisps of smoke, showers of sparks, gouts of flame. Fissures form in the black diamond, slowing leaking the neon lifeblood from my now useless body. I watch from all angles, trapped in morbid curiosity and chains forged from adamantine gossamer. The stone spirals away and drops as a grain of sand on an endless beach, licked by kaleidoscopic waves.

A halo of scintillating energy forms around the lone thought I can muster, trapped in a cacophony of blistering sensations. I am free. I am without the fetters of flesh and bone and matter. I exist at all points, the event horizon on top of all. The totality of all possible times, dimensions and actions are known to me. Nothing is beyond my ken. Every horror ever dreamed has started, ran it's grisly course, and ended while I watched and guided, beyond the simple concepts of good and evil. Motes of light flare and pop, starting faint and growing bright then fading, each a million lives bundled by glassy globe, winding round the stars in the sky. Everything in perfect revolutions, a clockwork of orbits churning in the ink. Even the pebble of this universe is small to me, a house on Mobius Street, hedged by scrubs of possibility and chance, only random to blinkered eyes.

Forever outward and inward I seek the empty spaces. More empty than full, the spaces define the shapes. Forces preserve the vacancies, the locked doors, the barred gates, the repulsion of atoms, the gravity of stars. On all levels, matter hates and slaves energy to guard it. Men kill for muddy land, atoms burst to flee from neutrons, galaxies spiral off to heat death against the tide of the vacuum. Time flows and pools as a river does, curling around rocks in the stream, foaming and swift in the rapids. All the faceted diamond mirror dimensions interpret this dance, a heisenbergian audience that applauds and boos out of synchronization with the script. Still, refraction makes rainbows.

I choose to see beyond mortality, beyond the beginning and the end, always towards to next horizon. Words fail, and soon thought grows sluggish. I ascend beyond comprehension, beyond existence, beyond being...

I wake up on the floor of my apartment and scatter the foil wrappers and polystyrene grass in a garbage angel around me. The basket is undone, waving square-ended fingers into the air. I have sweat a pattern into the hardwood floor, and a sweet deathly smell fills my nose. My mouth. I think my mouth has been filled with fiberglass insulation, and that my teeth have dissolved in an acid wash. It hurts to think. My spit is thick and hot against my protesting gums. Sleep crusts my swollen eyes and I lack the will to move against my deadweight body and pounding head. 'No more candy' is my lone thinkable thought.

Easter just isn't Easter without a resurrection.

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