Saṃsāra - continuous flow

The cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth/reincarnation.


The endless loop.

We will never escape it.


The shadows linger in the same patterns every day and again, the déjà vu hits him with an intensity that almost makes him fall over.

But it's not the same as what it's supposed to be, he knows this. These are not idle mind tricks, hints of a second of a dream and a day that almost match like two opposing gloves- the same, yet reversed. These are mirrors.

I've done this all before.

What is "this"?

He looks in the mirrors and sees his entire life reflected back at him, through a million mirrors that are reflections of each other, smaller and more indistinct each time, and his is so pale as to be almost invisible.

Once, the reflection was life, and now it is merely that, a false, failed imitation.

"There is a way to end this," the voice in his mind whispers, every day without fail, and now he's so desperate to escape, to have his own life, that he listens.

As the knife slashes from his inner wrist to the crease of his elbow in a vertical line of so much blood he is gripped with so much déjà vu that the knife clatters to the floor and he screams.

It's the Voice, the Voice was the life, the Voice is the true life.

The Voice wants its life back.

Or it wants an end, and eventually, the reflection is so small as to be invisible.

Soon, it will get what it wants.

He can't bring himself to wish the Voice any ill will. He wants this hollow reflection to end as much as it does.

He loses consciousness knowing he will bleed out soon, and he only regrets not doing this sooner.


Ryou Bakura looks at the pale shadows and knows that they have repeated this pattern too many times to count.

He is hit with a wave of déjà vu so strong he almost falls over.