Speck

Imagining the insanity of a billow-cloud eternity

Over some uncertain undefined finality and ending

Years of a life summed up in a pop-up book pages

Peekaboo

Open/close, one page to one year

Or like a bleak puppet show in a tired amusement from many years ago

Playing the part of a character, dusty with age and wear

going through the inevitable rituals and motions then put back

The sense of an air and time I recall but never experienced

Spines of books upon books upon books

every word, page, chapter worn and pressed from age

There was joy there once, words that came to life from the page

I was spellbound by the colour, the vividness and opportunities they bought

impressed by the almost infinite time in them

yeah I could be absorbed, transport myself into them through some unspoken vortex

become someone else somewhere else some other time some other universe

some kinda parallel – I’m gone but only next door

I’m not here but don’t worry, I can just step through this vortex portal again

and be with you in a flash, in a shout, a blink-you’ll-miss-it moment

and be with you

But these games don’t work, they’re slowly fading, degrading, rusting

and these books, well

they just seem like redundant blocks of paper standing still like Easter Island stones

looking wistfully and mockingly at me, sighing through years of history, some mine, some not

And it’s

like

if

I

knew

which

page

to

start

with

Maybe I’d be eyes open, kaleidoscope colours, spinning round the room laughing

camera looks at me, summer orange light shards through dust

smile now smile now smile

spin spin spin as I stare into the lens

played back years later click-click-clack of tape

wondering how seconds minutes hours became foggy dusty days weeks

months

years

decades

Trying to break down the code of every decision as it branched out into my life

building up these useless diagrams

mental blueprints of a life

mental

blue

Stepping off for what feels like the 100th time into a sudden vacuum of noise and odour and

hard to explain but almost angry

There are seemingly thousands of routes and subroutes and fork-split-decisions-make-memories

And I overthink each and every one of them

So it

slows

down

so much that I

lose time

lose

lose

lose

And I’m well aware that I’m gaslighting myself

as no, I can’t control time or space at will

No matter how hard I try to pry back the inevitable like a weakened bar in a cell

worn down by effort, frustration and anger from years and year

I can’t

it won’t budge

That ever-present permanence, in-yer-face you can’t change it

So I just

stop

A super dramatic set of bright headlights in the rain on black tarmac

A furtive look through the window at this concept of another life which keeps turning its head away

It won’t look back just forward at only one possibility

In the sea of infinite trillions there are

I can barely see it; it’s not like some super clear crystal ball, no

More like the fleeting reflection on one single little raindrop

Almost nothing, almost meaningless

Just that familiar ‘what if’ before it dissipates

And then another drop, yet more

Repeat to fade

Once upon a time in a split second a long time ago

Actually a fragment of a split second, so fast my mind couldn’t open the lens

This breeze went through me, through my bones & soul, I actually felt for a [split] moment the realness of that decision

It whistled through me and I swear time stopped so still just long enough – just just long enough I could breathe

It was pure [but I can’t explain], it was so powerful yet didn’t diminish

It wasn’t amber, no, more like that white light they say you see at [moment of] death, but alive, so alive

I felt every cell in my body [and mind] [and soul] light up like the biggest Christmas tree you could imagine [you couldn’t]

For just that moment which was a tiny speck in the universe’s time, which actually felt like I’d dropped out into another lifetime and spent eternity there then returned

I was the wind + sun + sky

I was the air through the tree

I was the vibration of the sound of wings beating, ice melting, clouds moving

I was the gap between the seconds on the clock

So still yet moving, static yet everywhere

+ it occurred to me

My eyes were wide wide open, looking at an entire valley of my being

where yesterdays+tomorrows+this today merged into sand, rocks

sea

Where one heartbeat of my billion erupted into clarity and polished chrome awarness

Oh it was glorious

I sat there feeling it, watching the sky, never intrepid

If only I could put it into words or bottle it up you’d see

you’d see.

I’m going way way down flying straight into a crack

Far far far down and maybe I’ll peek out at the world [or maybe I won’t]

Fight or flight and I seem to choose flight every time

I’m a ball that won’t bounce

A plane with no propellor

So I think it’s easier for you and I if I put my hands over my ears and close my eyes

Firmly

I think it may be easier if I wrap my arms around myself

Tightly

And wait for this to pass

And who knows, maybe when I look up

The storm will have passed.