Sense of perception
Dark
Warmed by candlelight and enveloped by excitement. Childhood blackouts were full of fun and whimsy. Stories of the ‘black and tans’ by my Grandfather as we snuggled down under itchy blankets.
This is another kind of blackout. It’s daylight for a start, the sun has risen and the world is awake. Everything is as it should be but something is amiss. The birds don’t sing, the sun doesn’t shine, the flowers don’t emit their perfume. There is a blackout. The pathway between me and the world has been blockaded. Everything has evaporated, the world is small. It’s literal. It’s outside the window, it’s passing me by. There is no depth, but a hallow black mass.
There is no physical change. Touch, taste, sight, sound, and smell are present but dulled beyond recognition. There is no beauty in them, no vibrancy.
This a dark spot.
There is another place. I know of it, I have been there before.
“There is light, bright light. There is dark. There is a frenzy in between. Both are interrupted rudely by their own paresthesia.”
Glow
Reaching for breath above the trees. There is another space above all of this where I can breathe.
The other place is more tangible now. Feeling has been restored. Something other than nothing.
The edges are blurry but possess a hopeful glow.
Glitch
Beyond the other trials and endless dialogue, another conversation has begun. Will I see the sun again?
My skin and limbs are now laced with words. They prick, burn, sting, numb, tingle, and hum.
There’s a dark itch. A glitch.
Light
Without notice, the dark has passed.
All known things bloom and expand. Existence is once again limitless. Moments explode with magnificence and possibility.
The air is heavy with the scent of life being lived. Music hasn’t sounded this sweet or conversation so lyrical.
Life thrives. It’s alive, awake.
In this form, I am free from ache.