The repulsion here is palpable. You felt that there was a heat in your hand. Maybe there was light? Now it is gone. The heat is a fever. You throb with sickness in some malarial jungle. The ground seems to flood with venom every time you take a step. The air is misty with poisonous fumes and the snakes and lizards and toads that inhabit the trees are brightly coloured, spiny, and vicious. The air sizzles.

The land itself tries to turn you back. The world is against you. You are worthless and helpless and hopeless. Your goal is impossible. You will never find it. You will never see it. You will never touch it. All you want to do is tell another. Spread the word. Get others to come here. You are dying.