The hearth imploded.
My hands bleed on the rocks trying to halt the destruction. Gathering, stacking, forming, building. Bruises bloom on my naked body as the boulders tumbled over and over down my slope. Cracks creak at my feet and begin their exploration. I press my back harder against the hearth-rubble. Stop the avalanche. Stop the avalanche. Stop the avalanche. Walls moan and begin their descent. The ground bites into my flesh with a wide-toothed smile. The rocks, the hearth escape now – to the north to the east to the west and down around my southern body. Roof evaporates into sky, and I am buried.
Violated, pinned, and immobile in this new bed, I watch clouds chase each other. A face with chubby cheeks follows a bunny whose ears are much too short. A long tailed monster floats easily past the dog trying to bite that tail. Then one that refused to speak to me and kept its amorphous shape, demanding I see It. Screams bubble in my pelvis, travel the length of me, and explode into the world. They overtake one another, playing some perverted bunny hop until as one they poured from my mouth. An eternity of noise and white release. I lose my breath and give birth to my scream. Sound dominates the world, invading the smallest crevices. Every thing vibrates. I am exposed again and vomit white powder into the air.
I cut my hand on a stone and blood drips where the stone used to be. Another rock disappears under my fingers. Then underfoot. I trip. The remains are leaving. Are leaving. I am barren. Hands in front of eyes. Still there. The air is unbearable. The clouds are gone. The sky is pale and fading. The sun: faithful still. Folding, crumpling, the earth pulls away. No Will to inhabit space. Color and line drain and blur. No anchor. Nothing to hold. Not floating. Not anywhere. Landscapes and horizons gone and forgotten and desperately remembered. A non-sense of touch. Air and flesh merge. The sun has gone, but there is no night and there is no light. Air. All is air. Raw, unbreatheable air. Years of unbecoming. Looking to the end before it’s begun. Begin and end merge into eternity. Nothing will ever happen.
I am on the edge of crying where everything hurts but the eyes won’t well up and your eyeballs press forward seeking something, the mouth involuntarily frowns and the space between your shoulder blades tenses and it seems like you will never ever move past this moment and just be suspended in this torturous place forever. This destruction belongs to me. This destruction is my whole world. This destruction defines me. This destruction creates me. I am this destruction.
Infinite planes of thought and an aphysical smile. Here, alone, thought, nothing, lost distractions, blank, open, mine. What Where When Why How have no existence. The universe and I are thought and emotion. I try to travel through this place with tears and laughter, but travel, tears, and laughter do not exist. Direction has lost Its way. Thoughts try to define the emotion. Names are null. I try to invoke them anyway, to keep Possibility infertile. I cannot access my own skin, my own borders. I try to paint old worlds on to nothing and struggle against unending. Try to walk without learning how.
I want to be a bubble. I need even the flimsiest of boundaries. To know where I begin and end again is heaven. Fuck the angels.
Regret, Memory, Definitions. Still no knowledge of I. let go let go let go letgoletgoletgoletgoletgo let. go. Let go let go letgoletgoletgoletgoletgoletgoletgo letgo let go let go letgo let go let go let go let go let go
I fear the other side of nothingness.
I fear being nothing, and I fear the other side of nothingness.
My fear chains me to the comfort and terror of this non-existence.
I've been working on this piece for nearly two years. The images of beyond nothing are vivid, but I haven't been able to find an ending or a path to creation within the world yet. I am waiting.
My hands bleed on the rocks trying to halt the destruction. Gathering, stacking, forming, building. Bruises bloom on my naked body as the boulders tumbled over and over down my slope. Cracks creak at my feet and begin their exploration. I press my back harder against the hearth-rubble. Stop the avalanche. Stop the avalanche. Stop the avalanche. Walls moan and begin their descent. The ground bites into my flesh with a wide-toothed smile. The rocks, the hearth escape now – to the north to the east to the west and down around my southern body. Roof evaporates into sky, and I am buried.
Violated, pinned, and immobile in this new bed, I watch clouds chase each other. A face with chubby cheeks follows a bunny whose ears are much too short. A long tailed monster floats easily past the dog trying to bite that tail. Then one that refused to speak to me and kept its amorphous shape, demanding I see It. Screams bubble in my pelvis, travel the length of me, and explode into the world. They overtake one another, playing some perverted bunny hop until as one they poured from my mouth. An eternity of noise and white release. I lose my breath and give birth to my scream. Sound dominates the world, invading the smallest crevices. Every thing vibrates. I am exposed again and vomit white powder into the air.
I cut my hand on a stone and blood drips where the stone used to be. Another rock disappears under my fingers. Then underfoot. I trip. The remains are leaving. Are leaving. I am barren. Hands in front of eyes. Still there. The air is unbearable. The clouds are gone. The sky is pale and fading. The sun: faithful still. Folding, crumpling, the earth pulls away. No Will to inhabit space. Color and line drain and blur. No anchor. Nothing to hold. Not floating. Not anywhere. Landscapes and horizons gone and forgotten and desperately remembered. A non-sense of touch. Air and flesh merge. The sun has gone, but there is no night and there is no light. Air. All is air. Raw, unbreatheable air. Years of unbecoming. Looking to the end before it’s begun. Begin and end merge into eternity. Nothing will ever happen.
I am on the edge of crying where everything hurts but the eyes won’t well up and your eyeballs press forward seeking something, the mouth involuntarily frowns and the space between your shoulder blades tenses and it seems like you will never ever move past this moment and just be suspended in this torturous place forever. This destruction belongs to me. This destruction is my whole world. This destruction defines me. This destruction creates me. I am this destruction.
Infinite planes of thought and an aphysical smile. Here, alone, thought, nothing, lost distractions, blank, open, mine. What Where When Why How have no existence. The universe and I are thought and emotion. I try to travel through this place with tears and laughter, but travel, tears, and laughter do not exist. Direction has lost Its way. Thoughts try to define the emotion. Names are null. I try to invoke them anyway, to keep Possibility infertile. I cannot access my own skin, my own borders. I try to paint old worlds on to nothing and struggle against unending. Try to walk without learning how.
I want to be a bubble. I need even the flimsiest of boundaries. To know where I begin and end again is heaven. Fuck the angels.
Regret, Memory, Definitions. Still no knowledge of I. let go let go let go letgoletgoletgoletgoletgo let. go. Let go let go letgoletgoletgoletgoletgoletgoletgo letgo let go let go letgo let go let go let go let go let go
I fear the other side of nothingness.
I fear being nothing, and I fear the other side of nothingness.
My fear chains me to the comfort and terror of this non-existence.
I've been working on this piece for nearly two years. The images of beyond nothing are vivid, but I haven't been able to find an ending or a path to creation within the world yet. I am waiting.
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