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The shadows, they twist in ways they shouldn’t. The rooms flicker with their noise, buzz with that incessant need that fills the air. The walls on second glance look wrong, the furniture on second glance is melded. The lights keep buzzing and flickering as the walls seem to grow more and more wrong. They change, yet, they are the exact same as the last time. They turn and groan, reveal new locations while staying the exact same as they were. His eyes could blink and everything yet nothing would change, he could take a step and find himself in an entirely new place while he was somehow going three steps back.
It was as though he drew a dog, and he didn’t know what one was. The buzzing was continuous, never-ending just as this space was. His hands could guide him to grab the knob of a door only for him to be turning the handle, his feet could carry him through the endless halls only to take him right back to the start. His ears could listen to the familiar sound of flickering and buzzing lights only for everything to be silent like it always was. His eyes could trace the yellow walls only for them to instead be tracing a blue sky.
Slowly, he walks, draws the layout as though it is second nature. He roams and roams like he has been for these past several days, though, has it really been days? It is like time has no meaning here, like he has experienced several days in the span of just a few hours but similarly as though those few days have been months. Minutes pass by in droves while hours pass by racing. His mind conjures things up, makes ants crawl along his skin while hands gently drive them away. Makes blurry figures that run from him while standing right beside him.
His eyes turn, his hands draw, his head tilts and his feet move. It is such a mind-numbing place, but so much of it is new, so much of it is old and so much of it is the most interesting thing he has ever come to face. It is changing, always changing without changing. Stagnant while moving, peaceful while terrifying, lovely while disgusting. He can feel himself deteriorating as discovers new and old places, as his hand moves and gently draws. At one point his hands aren’t drawing, his feet aren’t moving but he’s eating. Drinking a thing that tastes like nothing while tasting like something. That’s so incredibly viscous while sliding with ease down his throat. He’s chewing on the most vile yet most appetizing food he has yet to taste.
His eyes turn up and there down the hall he can see himself, taller yet not at this distance. Disfigured yet just like him if he squints, it stares at him as he stares back. The two have met one another again and again, it shows up or he does, it stares or he does, he stands there or it does, he walks away or it does. The two stand at the end of the hall, the lights near it flicker and go out, the buzzing surely stopping while his stay illuminated. Behind it is white tapestry, a textured wall like that off a pool’s flooring. Behind him are yellow walls, peeling with a mildewy smell. It…no, it is no it, it is him and he is it. He is what he is and he is what he shall be.
Clark stares at Clark as Clark stares back. He stares at him as he stares back. The two seem to just stand there, take one another in because what else is there to do? What else is there to do when something so similar stands across the hall from you? He stares and stares as he stares and stares. The buzzing around them is ever present and the harsh, almost blinding yellow fluorescent lighting bathes the hall gently. He continues to stare before he turns away. He turns and continues walking, his feet guide him nowhere while taking him everywhere. He breathes in a stale breath and exhales a fresh one as he moves his hand to trail against the wall, it is damp as it is dry, cold as it is warm.
His eyes turn down and he stops, stares at the walls that showcase a pretty blue sky with clouds. He stands there, takes in the gentle scenery that is so aggressively blinding. He feels his hands clench and unclench as he stands there, the lights flicker above him and eventually they go out drowning him in a sorrowful darkness, in an unchanging darkness that threatens to soothe his damned soul. His leg taps against the floor as he moves on, he lumbers through the halls and through the maze, loses himself while seemingly steadying himself. Clark moves his hand and tilts his hat up to see the lights that flicker near him and then go out. He is him as him is he.