Tuesday, 8 November 2011
Blog 8: Being Composite
This garden is so many places in one. Iterations of time and space overlap visually. I hear whispers of singular existence trying to pull me into one region of time and space. I want to follow the calls. I am so lost. I see the path forwards and back on one point of the compass. I might walk forever in circles following a perfectly straight bearing. In this place my intention for movement means little. I am bound by how the variations chose to move me. I feel shadows of pain sometimes as if at some point a still version of me has reached a physical limit. Some barrier on one plane has ended my journey as should all the others.
I see many gardens, trees and shrubbery overlap and dance entwined. I am not whole but wispy like vapour. My movements are lead and are followed by echoes and foreshadowing’s of intent. I can chose to ignore the path already taken but might walk down it despite myself.
I find myself in a river or multitude. The interaction of many times and places unite to assure me I am soaked to the skin and cold. The warmth of the sun in one instance does nothing the disparate realities of the rest of me.
I am a composite event in time and space. I exist outside perception in singular time or space. Diverse by nature I cannot chose one but take all roads.
It seems like a lack in concentration that hinders me in choosing one place or moment. I look to become one being of one mind but the universe shifts around me breaking my focus. It’s a lonely life. Those who perceive me on one plane and try to communicate are thwarted by the drone of layered realities. I have screamed to each existence but cannot listen for the reply.
How long can this last? How long can I exist in manifold perpetuation? I might loop time imperceptibly, beginning and ending in one instant on a single thread that ripples through each of those I see and hear. Return me to singularity. This is loneliness and confusion. This is too much for any of me.
Do I persist as something outside the collective being. Each of the realities that comprise me must sustain themselves with nourishment yet I never have. Am I not the mind of these conjoined persons but a cognate reaction to their interaction within a web. I might be a spark that works in the conjunction between the many human minds that interact on this multiple plane of existence. If I am an average result then I should hope for the continuance of this paradoxical existence. If I am one of many then solitude would be the saving grace of sanity.