My mind is a multimedia multi-dimensional collage constantly being compiled. You can dive in at any level and wander around and around
I have a theory it runs on old software that was never invented or invented but not finished or conceived but not created or something
which doesn’t quite work as it’s meant too, doesn’t quite work in a way that’s ideal. It doesn’t get the job done but it definitely gets a job done.
Or several jobs half done
Every so often it decides to finally pack up and leave. Find somewhere quieter, somewhere with softer edges where thoughts can roam without intent or purpose. But then it takes a nap and wakes up to find itself on a nearly blank page. Nearly blank because the ink has seeped through from the previous days and days.
There is so much to make sense of, process, file, re-call, catch, exhaust, exhaust, exhaust. But then there are The Moments.
Moments when I feel the world with such clarity that everything stops. I imagine my lungs, my heart, my feet; my every blood cell in suspended animation as the moment holds me steady and cradles me.
It was maybe you, or them. It was colour or water or the sudden absence of sound. It was art, or joy or perfect lines, angles and contrast.
I exhale and the relief reboots my system. New energies mix with old and the noise builds but the sensation of that last Moment becomes ink that seeps and stains.