So, what motivated you?
Apologies for answering your question with another, but I can't think of a better response.
What do you expect to find beyond the veil? Is the freedom of knowing worth more than the meat behind your eyes? I know what happens when you let that sepulchral feeling take over. I learned so from experience.
I was young, and my naivete overshadowed my maturity - I longed to feel the excitement of discovery again, that same childlike wonder that brought my hand closer to the fire, yet still burned me the same.
For that reason, I often gravitated toward offshore work opportunities. The longing grew as I took in the sights of my travels… transforming into a constant, oscillating noise that grew louder and louder. But I couldn't stop, not until my latest venture pressed the brakes.
How did you find that limspace?
A few days ago, you asked me that same question.
I'm… sorry for being harsh back then, I feel ready to answer now.
During a trip to Oklahoma in 1943, I took a jam-packed train to a bridge's construction site. It was cheap labor, but I couldn't pass on the opportunity to travel.
The train tracks spanned across the countryside - giving me a view of the occasional farmlands, bushes, and trees scattered about. Halfway through the journey, a deep fog obscured the treeline. An average day, accompanied by a tedious sight. It was all I had to bide my time.
Then, I gradually began noticing a pattern. The trees grew closer to one another with each hour that passed, eventually forming lines. I took this photograph. Excuse the quality - those were old days.
When I figured it out, I could feel that same incessant urge, that white noise. Those patterns expelled such an odd aura - I wanted to investigate for myself.
That's when I opened the veil. I had found what I went there for! There was no time to lose. I had to mute the noise.
As I stood up, the hissing grew louder. I thought it would stop once I made it out of that damn train - no, I only naively hoped it would. I moved to one of the train segments. I just wanted to take a closer look as the trees increased in number, forming a single line that stretched across the horizon.
And then, I finally snapped back. The operator carriage was empty, and so was the rest of the train - maybe that's why nobody stopped me. I realized the ridiculousness of my situation; maybe I shouldn't have peeked as far as I did, or maybe it was the correct path.
Perhaps that's what the ringing was, a call. It stopped as soon as I saw it trailling along the line. I never heard the noise again since then.
I felt cold air fill my lungs as I took one last picture of the sky. Do you want to see it?