This One Guy

Wandering past the familiar feudal scene of a future on a collision course with its conception, conceptually surpassing the seemingly archaic, intrinsically interlinked, stellar highway of neurons and shooting stars exploding past each other from an unknown common origin, yet it is all the... Absorbed in my thoughts, extrapolations of infinite variables communicated,  perceived, perceived than communicated,  the pace of my gait increased as this vessel passed the gaunt surroundings of a surreal, manufactured landscape, consuming itself: personified i wonder if its anorexia or bulimia?

Recycling the same thoughts cyclically, progressing slightly, yet relatively stagnant, the tempo has been building to an exponential crescendo, unprecedented, yet to be experienced, vertical.  Each step increased in length which surely could be plotted or contained within an algorithm, in one of numerous numberlands, but it was brought to my attention from an unexpected source. Heart rate increased as i became short of breath immersed on my inner journey while navigating temporary abstractions, and learnt behaviour patterns: move left to avoid a collision with a stranger i have never met, nor will i ever again, obey the traffic lights, look both ways, keep to yourself.

In this sequestered, cloistered, segregated, world a draw bridge was extended forth, a few short words that linked two worlds together, the age old interaction, communication, and sharing of reality, “what’s the rush?”. Really, what is the rush? I wondered, i began to observe, to come back down to this so called “reality”, i had nearly been running, unaware, on an intellectual meditation leading myself right back to where i began, propelling me to, and from, the source. The source of my thoughts, the commonality, singularity, unifying experience, i will get there eventually, there is no rush.

“What are you running from?             What are you running to?” the haggard and mystic elderly man with grand canyon wrinkles carved with an elegant grace hinting at a quality of creation which has long been forgotten, ageless,  chiselled by the unseen variable that we attempt to name. The same underlying answer, there is no rush, and i do not know.

Affixing labels, fixity’s in the collective mind, subjectively exploring objectively, there really is no adequate label. A few steps further, as i look back and begin to reflect upon this unusual experience, connection, with a stranger i may never meet again, the perspective begins to warp and distort as he shrinks and becomes another saxon grotesque, a gargoyle perched upon a surrogate creation, pouring out the channelled flow of life, the water which we cannot escape, blended, then melted into the limestone walls he leaned against, becoming just as much a part of the building as the mortar and concrete.

Where am i going? A new vantage point perpetually in bloom becoming something...more, and less, at the same time. The causality of the thought propelled many more off the precipice of the tallest mountain in the universe at its zenith, scratching the barrier, a barricade as thin as an infinitely sharp blade slicing dimensions apart, carving the void into infinity, male and the precipice, plunging downhill into the unknown, unfurling. The pace was picking up once again, the neon signs selling me fulfillment of a created desire, an unneeded want, became nothing more than psychedelic streaks, tracers melding together, dancing around each other, gravitating together on a common axis as they spiralled off infinitely into in perfect spirals.

This time there was a new variable.  i was aware of the quickening; not only of the speed, but of the universal implications of an increased concentration of awareness perceiving more, in a lesser duration of time, as well. But i guess that’s nothing new, relatively...relativity.

You are here –Are you here?, a stark contrast to the battle for the collective mind the corporations waged daily, hourly, minutely, secondly...It appeared and entered my mind as i shot past the wheatpasted  gem of expression, communicating the shared notion that there is more than consumption, of many things, of sensory indulgence...esoteric science, occult doctrines, unspoken words awareness, unknown unknowns...the unified collective countering the mold, broadcasting, promulgating, the natural response, are you here? Is it really resistance to allow what comes forth “naturally”?

Step, stride, skip, step, faster, quicker, gone. Each tile a stepping stone over an abyss. Don’t step on the crack you’ll break your mothers back. Ever faster, exponential. Moving so fast, molecules of air flow through my being not around, each stride, each step, larger than before, city block flying by, horizons seen—uncovered—discovered with each exchange of footsteps: more momentum then an asteroid, flying across the sky, trajectory unknown, speeds unparalleled, i am no longer on this planet.

The inertia of my first step carried me forth straight into space, travelling upon a trajectory that was once in line with the curvature of the earth, now extending ever further into the vacuum of dark energy and matter, constellations that have yet to be named, flying past, galaxies young and old, dying and being born

. Faster further, no more association, another realm, a celestial abode, what is a point of reference again?

A millionth of a second further in linear time...and for that, i have no words.

zousu zousu
18-21, M
Feb 15, 2010