Democritus said: "Truth lies in the abyss."
The abyss is a gaping opening that yawns like a black maw, a dark chasm whose edges and bottom cannot be seen. Does it even have a bottom, or does it lose itself in infinite depths?
But might the abyss not be death? For when we die, do we not fall into that abyss? A place with no light, no sound, no sensation of any kind, only emptiness. Where our existence may not even be an existence at all. But one thing is certain: the abyss is filled with infinite darkness and shadow, capable of swallowing light itself.
And if the abyss is death and the only truth, then it means that nothing under the sun endures, and that every living being is merely a dead man on borrowed time. The sword of Damocles hanging overhead, waiting to bring death.
And whoever plunges into the abyss and achieves the feat of returning from it will be radically changed and will no doubt become a stranger to all men.
For to return from the abyss is to return from death, and the tortures of death and its loneliness are dreadful.
Plunging into moments where reason abdicates, into dreams and madness, into all those acts where the human brushes against the inhuman, where nature becomes unnatural. With the effect of desacralizing the world. Everything is then reconsidered from the awareness of an infinite, defined, and of an undefined outside of us and within us. Of what is good or evil, of what is moral and what is not.
So beware! For if you gaze too long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.