You are in a forest. Within its branches, where the trees' deepest thoughts lie. Thoughts that could tear you apart, and shred your insides. Those pointy, needle-like thoughts.

And yet, you remain unscathed, though it does not feel that way. As you struggle, your foot breaks free, into open air. You wrestle your way out, draining all your strength as you do so. 

Always falling. How long can one keep falling? How hard can one hit the ground? How long can one remain shrouded in darkness?

Again you lose track of time. Again, you rise up after the fall. Again, there is only one way to move. Forward. 

The trees grow close together, as if they are afraid to let go of each other. They are so still, they might be asleep.

You feel a shift in the air. Is the edge of the forest closer at hand? No, it is not the air, it i the darkness. The only familiarity amidst the constant falling and the constant hitting the ground. The darkness is shifting, in its deepest parts specks of light emerge. Specks so tiny they may not even be there. Dancing like dust in the sun, they seem to call you forward. 

You follow.