So this isn’t as much a post about the frailty of my inner state as related to music, or a rumination on the world as related to music, or really directly related to music. This is something I wrote a while ago.
There’s a cave, small and unassuming, whose small entryway juts out from a hillside surrounded by sharp rocks and long falls.
It is nigh impossible to access, as thousands of years of erosion and tectonic activity in this hillside have rendered the landscape a harsh, unforgiving one. Mother Earth cast off her many children in this land, leaving them to the whim of the Fathers elemental to use as their plaything.
Eons of suffering at their hands have made this place hell on Earth’s green and pleasant clime. Those foolish humans that dare venture into the labyrinth of spiring rock formations and cliff sides that end in an endless chasm either never leave, or witness horror beyond mortal comprehension. There are no creatures that thrive here—it is what evolution and the great powers of the universe have left behind, where life never had a chance to begin with.
It is truly Hell, but it was not always this way.
Once upon a time, in humanity’s dawn, great hordes of fleshy life thrived, unaware of what was beyond this tiny outcropping. In the cave, they played out their brief flashes of life, fucking and eating and staring into the great fires that licked and skated against the sky.
All were pitted against the dark, for in the pitch-black there were monsters to be feared. Huge throngs of naked bodies piled into the cave, circling fire pits and chanting to the stars songs of adoration and terror. What was law or order in the face of a faceless mass? There is only Lunacy.
They ate, consuming flesh of any beast they could find. They killed indiscriminately, offering anything they could to the nameless dots above, including each other. All around them was a calm, quiet land; when nothing happened, they were at peace, moving through their lives until one drove their pointed blade into another, or some great thing on fours tore their throat out, or they found themselves in the endless wasteland, with nothing to kill and consume or let slide down their throat with beautiful fluidity.
This place, with its lack of regard or heart, took life and love—there was nothing to be done. Their enlightened did nothing to curb this onslaught, for what could they do? The stars hung above them, the largest of which burned shrubs and, for the unlucky, took bodies away for its own consumption. Yet they all loved it, and it loved them.
It was here that the cave, had it the ability to speak, would tell of the dances, far as the eye could see. Gyrating, glistening flesh, animal skin beat against hollow gourds, grand displays to an everlasting sky that offered nothing in return. It was in the crowds of terrified, dancing humans that a few would drop to the red ground, devoid of life and left to feed the beasts that lurked nearby. Though they did not know death, they knew the absence of children’s’ laughter, which brought them such joy and happiness in a bleak world, and applied potions and powders to stave off.
Large beings pounded large drums into oblivion, the select few chanted and ululated towards the mass, which responded in turn by shrieking and chanting. This was the scene night after night, as it was all they could do until the brightest star would return, after what seemed like an eternity, to shine its loving embrace down on them. Night after night this would run its course, and every day the crowds would carry off the dead, embrace in one another, and venture off into the unknown land to bring flesh to their groups. So it went, day after day, for time immemorial.
The land moved and shook, spooking the great hordes, but eventually ceased. This too was a sign from the stars, though what of no one could say. So, it went that these rumblings were the stars below shifting in their sleep, nothing of note.
One sleep, however, would stand out in its ferocity.
It was bright out—the brightest star in the sky radiated its love to its children, the crowds below shifting about. Small rocks began to move about, trees would sway to and fro, nothing of issue. Each body went about its business, certain the thunderous land below would cease at any moment and all would be well.
Instead, it grew in intensity, shaking those standing off their feet, bringing great rock faces crumbling down, violently tossing the earth about. Cracks began to form, and the shrieking and screaming began to reverberate throughout the craggy clearing. Sharp spires shot up into heaven, taking anything unfortunate enough to be in the way up with them—beasts and humans alike, spiked atop tall steeples in a chapel of butchery and gore.
The shaking did not cease, and the enlightened, faced with mobs of fearful, dangerous bodies, thrust their distressed fingers towards the cave. It had withstood all that the land threw its way—surely the unseen being within would protect them, its humble children. The bright star above was slowly retreating to its home, helping no one or nothing.
The panicked masses wasted no time in trampling one another to bloody pulps to rush to the cave. Towering spires shot into the sky, taking anything with them, and the land did not cease its barrage, cracking and screaming an unholy sound into the air. All that were not left at the feet of the petrified crowds packed into the cave, cowering into each other’s arms and releasing whatever loose fluids sloshed inside their fragile bodies. The enlightened ones chanted and prostrated towards the bright light above, towards the ground below, any which way that might offer even a semblance of a response.
The stars below continued their massacre. The cave fell in. It would eventually cease, but no living thing in the rocky clearing was present to witness this miracle. Only lofty towers and broken land remained. Nothing came to save the day, and so it has been for thousands upon thousands of years.
Nothing of value or substance remains, for how could anything thrive or bud in this forgotten place?