Through the Gate

After a couple of steps into the vastness of the Gate, you realize that even though you´re technically through, you are far from the other side of the Gate. Once more, your tiny mind is stunned by the overwhelming scope of the Wall, for as you gaze in front of you, you realize that it is so thick, the opening, which seemed so comparatively small from outside, is in fact a massive tunnel in the featureless stone of the Wall, so tall, that it´s roof is lost in the haze and so long, that the end appears as a hairline crack of light, far, far ahead of you.

The tunnel walls are white marble, smooth and seamless as if carved from one single piece. It seems to glow gently from the inside, glittering arteries of pale blue mica running through it, in a vast, infinitely complex pattern that suggest some sort of order behind it, without seeming even the slightest bit artificial. The effect is of walking through a timeless causeway of shimmering, luminescent ice. Geology, architecture and mathematics in perfect harmony, flawless and breathtaking beyond the comprehension of the wisest prophets and most inspired artisans.

Of course, you are too stupid to notice any of it, your pathetic animal mind too focused on your aching legs, empty stomach and full bladder. So you trudge, unable to register the beauty around you, your heart too empty, shrivelled and callous to be touched by the glory around you. Where anyone else would be moved to tears, stricken to the very core of their being by such perfection, you simply grumble and slouch, bleary-eyed and itchy towards your unknown destination, occasionally hawking up a loogie while your mind ponders what to do with the next hot chick you run across. Maybe anal. Maybe throw sand at her.

You are so preocupied looking forward to your next, ultimately futile and unsatisfying spin of the hedonic treadmill, that you almost fail to realize that you´re almost at the end of the tunnel. Finally, after aeons of walking, you are past the Gate and inside the Wall...