Sometimes just naming the things around me, listing them in my head in some poetic fashion, labeling their attributes and spinning beauties brings me into a more complete awareness. My head just squares itself into where I am and I can feel it all. And I can feel the full existence of the moment, what it means to be the thing that I am standing and taking up space in this place, in this presence. And then everything starts to feel. All at once. Just looking at the brown of that chair tastes like chocolate and just looking at it feels like this luxuriously beautiful fabric is already touching me, and more than touching me, I am it. I just start to blend in to the world around me and feel what it is to be a book, to be a wall, to be a winding staircase.
That’s my superpower. And I call it synesthesia but that’s not really what it is at all. It’s a full on blending of the senses and more. It’s deep imagination. But I have to believe that I am not a crazy person. That we are all capable of deeper, more full, more intimate, more creative awareness of the world. That alternate states of consciousness are a beautiful, magical thing. I mean, that’s why people do drugs and get drunk isn’t it? Well, what I experience is better than tripping, sometimes. And I am in control of it.
Perhaps we are all actually aching towards this union. This universal, deeper awareness of all things.
Where is that great pool of creativity we are all pulling from?
Maybe I should just link to the book. The big shambling, mess that it is. I’m afraid to even look at it and I don’t know how to edit it because it just goes on and on and on and I’m horrible at cutting and very good at repeating myself. But I need to fix it and I need to work on it. If only I had more time.
I hate missing you. And not being able to talk to you ever. We’ve gotten ourselves in a weird, weird place.