in(f|t)ernal monologue
There is an existential force which exceeds the sensory possibilities of day-to-day reality and the limits of imagined perception.
You never get back to your past – half deja vu, half future shock – rekindles dead memories and ideas – resurrects and violently awakens a dead self – perhaps I really have been trapped here all these years – am I overwriting what I’ve become with an older copy?
I haven’t become anything, nothing more than a shade haunting a solipsist amalgam of memorized footpaths amidst an increasingly real location (for the corporeal) – the two combine and it’s a mental wasteland – only bits and pieces of the mundane realities of this place remain – the people are all gone – some facts remain – some facts may be token souvenirs and mementos – some facts may be memoirs and intimate correspondence – most facts are broken promises and liquor bottles – rusted metal facts.
Demand tracers, lost in the dark or increasingly blurred vision – food is all I want now: ephemeral sensations to take me further – back down this memory pit – maybe that’s a one-way ticket – maybe I’ve got to go it alone – maybe that’s why, somehow – this was a known possibility – maybe that’s why – I haven’t set foot in this place for so many years – maybe I go it alone and I’m no longer anything I’d be able to ID anyway – maybe we all come back that way.
Note: Atypical character set ends – synch with standard encoding.
I believe my head is clearing up – far fewer violent thoughts – more introspection.
Note: Entry continues – it is immediately apparent that
the communication channel of interest has closed.
