“They may wish for misfortune on others, an attempt to have negative phenomena come into and impact their lives.”

The anticipation of the positive and the enjoyment of present time have perpetually been foreign concepts for me. When in densely populated areas of both the Surface and the Warren, there is a threat that links them both: people want better days. They may wish for misfortune on others, an attempt to have negative phenomena come into and impact their lives. But, when it comes to each individual, it’s the constant push to attain this or that, or to associate with those whose make their time feel valuable, not want to waste this finite resource. I’ve always looked at this differently. It just seems like a race, a struggle that leaves you bleary eyed and broken. What I didn’t realize was that there was a seed of truth in this. Time is a candle that burns at both ends. Before you blink, it passes on to never return.

Agalloch

It now appears plausible that in this place, and of course I mean the Deep Down (is it nauseating to hear about it yet?), that time is a concept that doesn’t have clearly defined rules. On the Surface everything was timed, tallied, and due, and thus the rush ensued. The Deep Down, and my experience here thus far, has shown me that the clock doesn’t spin its arms at the quite the same rate, and sometimes not at all. It’s confusing to say the least, but also lends itself to intrigue. Why is this? I’ve never been a scholar or a stuffy archaeologist, but there’s an appeal to the unknown, even without the proper physical or mental tools. But to their dismay, I don’t think there’s actually a way to figure this shit out.

This brings me to my current activity, music. Since the level of confusion in this place is too damn high for my efforts right now, I decided to fill up my mind and body with aural enlightenment. “Foliorum Viridium” is akin to an intoxicating hike, and hails from none other than Agalloch. As the beasts of the forest come to greet you as you tromp through the forested wilderness, so do all of the layers of music that Agalloch crafts. In the Deep Down, surrounded by darkness, and with a reality as tenuous as my adherence to honesty, I was able to close my eyes, press my headphones to my head, and walk the primeval forests of the Surface once again.