BURSTS HASHED DENUDED SKULL
Dark space surrounding his transparent figure, he walked floating towards me, in the cold silence of the void he arrived to me, solace but for us. There was smile in his tone, a voice at once calm and uncaring; he did not bother with the pronunciation of certainty, a steel bar bench served him well, he greeted me as if we had always known each other, not even expecting my reply, which I didn’t offer; he sat on a steel bench large purple gray torso arching over his legs, suddenly a brash movement from his palm smacked hard into his brow and instantly upon the smack the back of his head bursts hashed denuded skull fleshings and a flash of bursting light energy blasted out quelling as promptly as it had appeared. He nonchalantly apologized to me for the disruption: “sorry its just how we burp excess energy.”
He had come from a far point of space though to him all voyages were instant and needless, the appearance of his arrival was mostly my own doings, he accepted the limitations of my perception, he had arrived, he was talking to me, none of those things were true to him, they were true to me, he accepted it without the indignation that I would have felt in his stead. He perceived that I liked the darkness of empty space, that I was into silhouetted encounters, the silence was for me, so that I would not overwhelm myself with the stimuli of omnipresence and omnientities that cling to everything, which he felt and sensed, not as being, nor by being those things, but as a feeler of being and entities nurtured within himself into awareness, all those beings and entities that were not him so that they would feel him, imbued with all.
Me, I was a local being, a member of a tribe of disassociates, I felt very specific things, I knew very factual things, I did not accept everything, I was not an omnibeing, I was very much in favor of my individuality to the point of sacrifice, I was not at ease with a universe that could radically change to avoid me being in it; I mustered the courage to maintain and stay and be within the constraints of my mortal morality, with an astonishing amount of energy excavation which invariably placed me in touch with the world of isolationism that rebelliously chose to localize in one reality and then to tribe manufacture that reality so that it would eventually become everything at the cost to what was really everything. We were the tribe of sameness, we did not like the diversions of dynamic beings, we were a sedentary virus, a congealing mass that was getting colder and stiffer everyday through success. Cease the moment, hold everything, stay as you are, do not move, force everything to stay the same so that it will support our proven version of ourselves, rest forever in certainty, the tribe of one category converting everything in the universe into humanity, every aspect of energy converted into a carbon based being of absolutes and needs. Me, that was me.
Bursting at the seams of my limitations, my emotional fires raging under controlled conditions, I called him, I asked him to come to me, to demonstrate the dynamic truth and to explain to me how change was not death? Why it was not abnormal for catastrophe not to be known in any other part of the universe while being an abundant occurrence? Why consciousness ought not matter? Why the universe could sleep through its entire existence and us local beings chose to endure consciousness? Why did we fall in love with absolutes when the entire universe rested in one amorphous movement? More I wanted him to tell me how I could forget myself? How I could alter the consciousness of my being so that I would not have to isolate my sensitivities with the anesthetic addictions? Indeed to be so alive that I would look forward to my being equally dead!
And now this omnibeing that I had called for such a giant task was in front of me just burping. I opted not to express discouragement, though the burping of energy, much as in babies, implies limitations; limitations of how much energy an omnibeing can manage; excess energy management is not a sign of a perpetual heart. I ignored my thoughts, this being was after all more infinite and translucent than I, far exceeding my walking capabilities, of which our tribe was proud, he was a floater, a being that had a bus pass to the mountainous limits of our deep universe.
I stood before him for eons of time, not saying a word, waiting for him to say something to me, he just sat there touching his orb like head as if he were suffering head lice, his thick lips, his refined arms moving softly through the fabric of our empty space. We said nothing, we thought nothing, we both knew that at some point we would converse beyond: “sorry it’s just how we burp excess energy.” Perhaps we were waiting for time to synchromesh our beings, perhaps we were not waiting at all and only time was waiting; of course.
He had come from a far point of space though to him all voyages were instant and needless, the appearance of his arrival was mostly my own doings, he accepted the limitations of my perception, he had arrived, he was talking to me, none of those things were true to him, they were true to me, he accepted it without the indignation that I would have felt in his stead. He perceived that I liked the darkness of empty space, that I was into silhouetted encounters, the silence was for me, so that I would not overwhelm myself with the stimuli of omnipresence and omnientities that cling to everything, which he felt and sensed, not as being, nor by being those things, but as a feeler of being and entities nurtured within himself into awareness, all those beings and entities that were not him so that they would feel him, imbued with all.
Me, I was a local being, a member of a tribe of disassociates, I felt very specific things, I knew very factual things, I did not accept everything, I was not an omnibeing, I was very much in favor of my individuality to the point of sacrifice, I was not at ease with a universe that could radically change to avoid me being in it; I mustered the courage to maintain and stay and be within the constraints of my mortal morality, with an astonishing amount of energy excavation which invariably placed me in touch with the world of isolationism that rebelliously chose to localize in one reality and then to tribe manufacture that reality so that it would eventually become everything at the cost to what was really everything. We were the tribe of sameness, we did not like the diversions of dynamic beings, we were a sedentary virus, a congealing mass that was getting colder and stiffer everyday through success. Cease the moment, hold everything, stay as you are, do not move, force everything to stay the same so that it will support our proven version of ourselves, rest forever in certainty, the tribe of one category converting everything in the universe into humanity, every aspect of energy converted into a carbon based being of absolutes and needs. Me, that was me.
Bursting at the seams of my limitations, my emotional fires raging under controlled conditions, I called him, I asked him to come to me, to demonstrate the dynamic truth and to explain to me how change was not death? Why it was not abnormal for catastrophe not to be known in any other part of the universe while being an abundant occurrence? Why consciousness ought not matter? Why the universe could sleep through its entire existence and us local beings chose to endure consciousness? Why did we fall in love with absolutes when the entire universe rested in one amorphous movement? More I wanted him to tell me how I could forget myself? How I could alter the consciousness of my being so that I would not have to isolate my sensitivities with the anesthetic addictions? Indeed to be so alive that I would look forward to my being equally dead!
And now this omnibeing that I had called for such a giant task was in front of me just burping. I opted not to express discouragement, though the burping of energy, much as in babies, implies limitations; limitations of how much energy an omnibeing can manage; excess energy management is not a sign of a perpetual heart. I ignored my thoughts, this being was after all more infinite and translucent than I, far exceeding my walking capabilities, of which our tribe was proud, he was a floater, a being that had a bus pass to the mountainous limits of our deep universe.
I stood before him for eons of time, not saying a word, waiting for him to say something to me, he just sat there touching his orb like head as if he were suffering head lice, his thick lips, his refined arms moving softly through the fabric of our empty space. We said nothing, we thought nothing, we both knew that at some point we would converse beyond: “sorry it’s just how we burp excess energy.” Perhaps we were waiting for time to synchromesh our beings, perhaps we were not waiting at all and only time was waiting; of course.
posted by Ricardo Correa at 8/31/2006 12:39:00 PM
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