September 11, 2013

Write-it-down, before you forget.

Before you forget the mind-numbing terror that accompanied every single moment of your journey down the rabbit hole. Before the lurking remnants of the forced-almost-too-calm-voice telling you it's-going-to-be-okay, you need to stay calm, that this-is-not-real fade from the deeper recesses of your mind. You need to remember every second that seemed like it was never going to end. Like when the clock struck 3:13, and what seemed like hours later it was still 3:13. Like you walked downtown past street 109, and two never-ending blocks down the road you got to street 110. Like everything was upside-down and inside-out and topsy-turvy-backwards yet at the same time completely, agonizingly, excruciatingly still. Still the same, hour-after-hour, or maybe it was moment after moment, when you opened your eyes to the same scene, the same people, the same bed, the same walls until you begin to wonder if there was anything else in your universe aside from this. Or maybe there was no universe, maybe nothing was real, maybe there was no past, no future, no present - maybe there was no me and no you and no crazy hobo sitting around the corners of the Grand Central Subway Station rolling his eyes madly and speaking to himself. Maybe he is you, and you - in actual fact - are him. Because, as the all-too-soothing voice in the background is saying: this is not real, this is not real, this is not real. Maybe at this very moment you are living a million imagined lives, your life, his life, her life, everyone's life is nothing but you. And you - you are in actual fact nothing at all. You are just the unending rhythm of your heartbeat, so sharp, so strong, so clear, so fast as if it's taking it's final flight before it collapses and finally ends this pretense that you call life. Except, you don't know whose life is actually ending. Just like when you open your eyes you don't know if this is real, or are you merely waking up in yet another dream. Perhaps all of this is just a series of bad dreams, and when you wake up - if you wake up - 'real' life will start. Except you will not be you, and no one that you knew or loved in this life will be with you. Are you sure you really want to wake up? Don't you want to keep dreaming instead? Do you even have a choice in these things? Or does nothing really matter because none of it is really real? Are you even there? Is the world actually spinning? Are you spinning with it? Are you lying down? Are your eyes closed? Why can't you make your hands move? Why does everything fall into a whirling matrix of colored lights and impossible thoughts whenever you lie down to sleep? When will end? What if this is the moment when you know that your sanity (or what passes for sanity in your version of the world) has deserted you forever? What if you have unintentionally escaped the narrow confines of your imagined reality and can never go back? What if you never see anyone you loved again? What if this is the rest of your life? And what if it never ends?

Write-it-down, before you forget. 

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