The pressure rises.

Detonations in my temples fracture my concentration.

Twenty thousand signals, an alarm sounds,

Synaptic connections ignite in communication.

My mind informs me.

The extrusion is underway but I remain unsure of how long;

Eons yet seconds pass by.

Decades yet only moments,

Bearable anguish via my choices,

Mistakes have been conceived;

Reality itself is born.

A wave,

Ice and electricity,

An extraordinary shock, yet entirely expected.

I turn to see my tormentor,

But it is gone.

Below the water,

Beyond the abyss,

I knew its dimension, But the proof is gone.

Catharsis evades me again;

I apply pressure to the lever,

The proof is swallowed by the abyss,

Too much fiber.