noteface

Monday, August 30, 2010

A stranger sight tonight. Staring into a mirror which did not return my reflection. It just showed what was behind me. Didn’t realise I was that transparent. Have to question my own existence.

Two hands. Your survival rate is higher if one hand holds your own throat while your second hand holds the throat of another. A hand on your own throat for emergency exit (in case of crisis). A hand on another’s throat so you aren’t reckless with your first hand. Their hand on your throat to encourage caution. And a sense of urgency. Survival instincts kick in better if it is not your own hand after you.

Wanted: a free hand. I could reposition the mirror to see myself and block out the view behind me. I would sit in the mirror and look at my reflection properly.

Sitting in puddles
Someone lights a cigarette
I don’t move away

I will grow myself a third hand. For the mirror - not for another throat. Two throats is already too many throats.

It is more than two really if I look into that backwards mirror. There have been a few other throats under my hands. Unsure as to whether I let them go or held onto them too tightly. Some days I just realised my hand was clutching air. Maybe I strangled a few throats. Which proves my theory about the survival rate. As in, I have survived.

Also some hands let go of me. Not to make space for other throats but to take both hands to their own throat. Extra safe emergency escape. Fail-proof.

I knew.

I am guilty of:
apathy,
compliance,
indecision,
narcissism,
hope.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

storm

I keep thinking that
the sound of rain
    is friends' lips joining
the low rumble in the distance
   is the rearranging of bed covers
the thunger
    is the crashing of bodies
the lightning
    is the peeling apart of skin.

I am not hearing what I am hearing.

tunnel vision

If by chance you should find yourself in a room where the light is suddenly switched out - perhaps from a power failure, or the bulb blows - it is a wise idea to cast your eyes in the direction of a window. There is usually some light visible from the outside world. A street lamp. Headlights of cars. Flames on cigarette lighters. A friend bearing a torch. You can use this light to orient yourself amongst the darkness.

Navigating uneven surfaces such as stairs and jagged handrails can be especially difficult and should be approached with caution. Often traces are left behind from those who have previously found themselves in such circumstances. These can assist you in finding your way. Look for small markings and strips of paper. From here, you can assess whether it is wise to follow in these peoples' footsteps or define pathways of your own.

Some people find themselves gravitating towards the light on the other side of the window. This is not advisable. While at first this may seem like a logical and effective solution, doing so results in injury. Many people experience disorientation as a result of the sudden darkness, unintentionally hurling themselves into the glass. This is not unlike birds as they fly into glass windows and doorways, unaware of the barrier between themselves and what they see beyond the pane. Venturing too close to the light may also cause blindess which can have long term effects. Once exposed to harsh brightness your eyes may never properly re-focus again.

Should you find your way out of the dark room you must keep in mind that it will take some time to adjust to your new surroundings. It is advised to take things slowly at first. Be mindful of your steps. Don't be in a rush. Proceed with caution. But do not let your experience of the darkness hinder your ability to appreciate a room filled with light.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

god as a verb

I am not particularly religious (if at all) but two things I encountered today resonated in me:

Firstly, a passage from the bible which I read on another blog:

I do not understand what I do.
For what I want to do I do not do,
but what I hate I do.

- Romans 7:15

The other is from a documentary we watched today in class (Haunting Douglas, 2003):

"God is a verb. It's not something separate from you. It's something you can experience."

- Douglas Wright

I suppose this is similar to how I perceive God: A particular feeling or experience usually brought on by beauty (in whatever form beauty takes - people, music, moments) and very often covertly. I do not view God as a singular ruling entity. I have always had trouble articulating my thoughts on this. But I think this also defines it: Something complex and not necessarily needing or wanting to be explained.