Fallen Stars

I have memories, old memories, certainly, of clear days when I would stand outside in the tall grass and look straight into the sky.  I would look up and see a sky with no sun, but rather a darkness–a darkness clad in golden vestments of a brilliance that paralleled even daylight.  It was not like the light of the sun, per se: It served the same purpose, took the same place, but it did not shine down like the sun does.  It shined through.  It shined through the grass around me, it shined through the earth where I stood, and it shined through me.  The sensation of it was one of more than just heat and light–as I recall it was not even hot at all.  It was a cold luminance, enough to make me shiver, but the sensation filled me, I could see it, feel it, even hear it, taste it, or interface it in ways I have since forgotten my capacity for.

These memories now stir in me a strange disconnect.  The image, the reality of it–for this memory is not, to my knowledge, of a dream–and the bizarreness seem as if the experience should have been profound, even in spite of my inability to place it in the continuity of my life.  But it…wasn’t.  It was just there, immutable and uninteresting to my past self, as if at some point my mind had pushed its knowledge of this strange vision past the boundaries of understanding, into the realm of apathy.  What must I then have understood of this clothed darkness?  Who must I have been to have understood it, and how have I now shucked that identity?

A possibility jumps out to me: I am not human.  This is, of course, predicated on other personal developments, more immediate and real than my own abstruse childhood memories, but the key is that I suspect that I–the entity now recording this note–was never human.  Other possibilities may exist, but my certainty deepens with each day that this, along with all its consequences, is the case.

I admit that there are many of these consequences that I have yet to appreciate, and I’m sure that the other three have not gotten this far.  Which begs the question: How many of us are there?  I have been able to find three others, but are there more who have yet to step into the light?

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