Wednesday, 18 June 2008

Glass World

Back in February, I was getting these strange delusions/or mild hallucinations: basically, the world would click around me like a kaleidoscope, and suddenly freeze into glass, and everything would be fine for five minutes. After a few of these one day I was ready with pen and paper, and kept writing all the way through the experience:

Suddenly the sun comes out and the icy wind is biting less harshly. Everything is becoming clear for a moment. Quick! Hold this moment! Hold it! Suddenly that glass world appears again, that terrifyingly beautiful glass world of freedom. The sun shines on it and my heart is breaking. I know the glass world will break again soon perhaps in minutes, perhaps if I am lucky it will never break. I must preserve it. This time I must not let it break. There is no imperative, no 'I must'. I am free of everyone, perched up here on this wind, looking down at this glass world of such coruscating glittering terror. Everything in this glass world becomes a question of dangerous simplicity of utter freedom, it is just a simple case of selfish freedom. I do not have to choose. Choice can be infinitely deferred. Choice can made at any moment because at this moment soaring above this beautiful glittering world of glassy fields and woods and cities of glass, I know I can do what I want. I am become glass also, I am without any pain, all the agonies reflect off me, I am become a mirror being. I reflect everything back into the glass world and this moment I want to last forever. In this world I can come and go as I please, I can be anything, I can do anything I choose, I do not have to choose. Oh, this moment will pass, but for now I am simply flying, a mirror-bird on the glass wind, with the glass sun reflecting from my wings. Outside this world I can see all the hammers - how can I keep it whole? I cannot escape the hammer men forever. I must find a way of making the glass indestructible, like perspex, so the hammers bounce off, yes, the hammers are made of rubber, that's it, I'll pretend to everyone that the glass is perspex and that their deadly abattoir hammers are made of soft rubber - see how they droop Dali-like in their many-fingered hands - I must pretend to them so they give me time up here - the insane surrealist has bailed me out - I've been given a breathing space - I've been given a moment that could become an eternity, I am not in the world of men anymore. It is stasis with the freedom of praxis ever-present. It is vast, it is dangerous, and it is beautiful. My heart is free and because it is free it is safe.

Is it safe to even examine it more closely, or should I shut my eyes and retain the memory of this sparkling illusion? No, I must put it to the test, I have sidestepped all conventions and I can act accordingly. I shall have to keep my wits about me - everyone will want me dead, my situation has solarized: positive becomes negative, negative turns positive; from being the one who wanted to be dead and everyone wanting me alive now I want to live and they'll all want me dead! It is a fine joke, no? So be it! They'll lock me up and throw away the key.

So now... now... what now? All the potentialities glisten in a bright morning sun on a dewy morning. Choosing any denies the others. Choosing none denies all. Oh, hang choice. Somewhere in all those potentialities there will be one that is made to accommodate me, one magic fate that will allow my life to expand, or perhaps there are a myriad of beautiful fates for me - it doesn't matter in the slightest. I can swim through life with a good conscience, in good humour, an ironical mirror in one hand and a comb of generosity in the other, my legs have fused into a gleaming salmon tail - I am a mermaid sitting on a glass rock in a shining glass sea: I am Odysseus listening to my own song.


Terra Incognita said...

Tears in the eyes. Beautiful and haunting. Love it.

Abysmal Musings said...

Thanks Terra :-)