p1. I notice that it's completely silent under the house. All the noctural sounds are muted. The city, my life all seem distant dreams here. I am here, I should see through!
p2. As I walk up the stairs I feel like I am leaving everything behind. Nothing to hold but the pole in the middle I feel like I am floating. Round and round.
p3. I dont see any entrance? Just a concrete plateau. Maybe the house is just some kind of exhibition project. In a sense I am relieved. I can stop imagining what all this means.
p4. Before I make the descend I lie down to catch my breath.
p5. Its sereen up here. For a moment I feel safe. Everything is going to
My eyes start to adjust to the darkness. On both sides I see some light coming through arched openings. Is this where they are? I am the intruder here.
Slowly I move towards the opening.
Convicing myself that the sound of my body shaving the walls is imperceptible.
Who is awaiting my presence?
.. I met with darkness.
I listen.
No point in calling at this point. They know I am here.
I feel my way in. My hand is met with a cold and rough concrete wall. The type that is not meant to be seen.
p5. I step out. Trying not to make a sound. The space between the walls is narrow. The other wall is a wood construction. I’m between the walls!
There is a seam between the mirrors. Maybe I can find a loose pane and get some movement.
Nothing budges
But I keep hoping
P2. One of the panes gives. Never give up. There is more to this house than I expected. I don’t know which sick mind imagined this and to what purpose but to torment must be one of them. Am I ready to look behind the curtain? Is this the exit or am I going deeper into the rabit hole.
p2.Staying here and enduring the gaze of others is not a real option.
p3. I can barely move. My knee is crushing my lung. I need to see this through. I slide the door open ..
I want to crawl inside my skin and form an infinite small dense ball. A tiny massive ball with no interior that no one can harm.
At these moments I wished this interuption from non-existence would cease faster. I can't believe how much we buy ino this big farce that anything actually matters.
Wallowing in my darkest thoughts I slowely come back to my body.
I am still here. Trapped in a void with mirrors. I must come to my senses. I have not tried everything yet.
Couple of deep breaths and the panic starts to subside. I have to check every inch of this god forgotten space
The mirrors don't budge, no matter how hard I hit them. My aggression is met with total silence. I regret letting my voice and fists go. It makes me appear weak.
p2. My fist is throbbing. I am trapped.
So many forked paths in my life and I took all the wrong ones.
p3. I deserve this.
I have cut the embolic cord to this world too many times.
p1. A mirrage?
Glittering in the moonlight, in the middle of the open space, surrounded by tall trees. An elevated house?
Everything looks off! As if someone enlarged a small doll house. It looks redicilously large and simpel in design.
It feels like its wearing simplicity as its mask. Familiar yet strange.
Could someone be living there? Is it someone I want to encounter?
Cautiosly I walk towards the house.
Its Friday evening, I can sense the valve release of the city. The built up frustration of the workweek transforming into energy to be somewhere, to see someone, to do something.
Some are able to flick the switch and start off the evening with an amnesia. Some need the ingestion of substances to help along and others, like me, are too disconnected to paricipate in another masquerade.
At these moments, when the city is changing gears from work to leisure and people are flowing along, it becomes unbearable for me to hear or smell the city.
Haunted by repressed memories and stillborn futures I am a living ghost in an indifferent city. The sad part is is that I'm not unique in this. To a different degree we are all masters of repression, clinging on infinite small chance that around the next corner a miracle will highjack us from our slumber.
p1. I am lost. I feel I am being consumed by the forest. Its this kind of places, in absence of culture that we become aware of our flesh. Ideologies and even beliefs crumble in the presence of true darkness. Death is not a concept here.
p2. In the distance I see some light coming through. For a second I feel relief coming over me, but I have learned to subside any positive emotion. p3. I have learned that only dissappointment can be found at the end of the string of expectation.
p4. This should not be here?
p1:With each step ahead I feel the darkness behind me becoming an even denser cloak. I hear the leaves crunch as I walk and the noctural sounds seem to get louder. I can't look far ahead anymore. Expecting a surprise behind every treetrunk.
I repress the thought that I am lost.
KRAKK
p2: What is that? I freeze. I stop breathing. All the stories about torests and all the movies I have seen flash before my eyes. Am I about to meet my executioner?
p3: Its futile
p4: I know
p5. I can't fight my monster with a stick!
p6: I am deafened by the throbbing of my ears. My heart wants to jump out of my body.
p7: Time passes enough to make space for reflection. I brush off all previous thoughts as silly superstition. Grind my teeth and my fear turns into anger. I move ahead.
A identical staircase
As I walk the stairs I can't see ahead. Whatever lies behind this wall already has seen me. I feel exposed.
p2. This looks different. This part of the forest looks denser and darker. I hold on to the concrete. Not sure if I should let go, not sure if I can do this.
p3. I'm here and I won't back down again. I am not welcome here, but what is there to go back to? The world behind me is indifferent and I have become indifferent to it.
I move ahead cautiously, I won't back down again!
p1.It feels like I am at the porch of a strangers house.
Its only missing a red carpet. p2.Curiosity overshadows the strangness of this situation.
p3. At the top, I am surprised to see a beautifully clad square. But it seams to br closed off by a thick wall.
p4. Walking in the middle of the square I feel exposed. Encapsulated by the trees and the peering eyes of the wall, I feel like I am at the center of a foyer at a party. An uninvited guest at a dark and majestic party, surrounded by strangers.
p5. I stare back at the wall. Waiting for the holes in the wall to talk to me. They stare blankly. For a moment I want to shrug this place off and return home
p6. I have backed down to many times. That’s why I’m standing here, alone with only my conflicting thoughts. Excitement and fear fill up my nostrils as I walk up the stairs.
Inside I find a hollow narrow space
It has become increasingly harder to retreat in this place inside my mind. Dark existential questions are pulling me in a reality that i am not sure I can escape.
So many wrong decision on forkpaths I have taken in my life. Choosing for the easy option because there was always enough time to correct my course. Too many times I have used that privilige.
I choose the smaller path this time. My heartrate rises as it feels like I'm being swallowed by the forest.
The path is littered and seems to be a dead end. But as I get closer I see more light coming through.
A small patch of open space.
A hidden entrance
Maybe time...
.. to go back
5-1 I need my nightly walks. Ignore the weekend, tire my body. The mind will follow, hopefully. I walk for an hour , away from people and the noise.
At the edge of the city, just where the forest starts I always turn back.
5-2 But the heaviness of the city lingers in every vessel of my body. I decide to walk in the forest. Its deserted as it should be around this time. I feel a hesitation to walk on but there is nothing to go back to so I walk on.
As the city sounds drown out I feel my frantic thoughts slowly subside. Its becoming easier to get lost in my thoughts.
5-3 In time I have managed to create a space in my mind where all my stillborn aspirations, regrets, memories and hopes do not exist. Its here that most of my waking days I take refuge in. For this reason from outside I look composed and in control of my emotions. People praised me for my patience and zenline attitude. But I know that its nothing more then willful numbness.
1.1. I breath in the sweat air of this past
1.2. My fathers strength to create meaning hehehe
p3. My fathers last breath leaving me to create my own meaning.
p4. So much good left unsaid and undone. Forever.
p5. These people experiencing this unique moment in time in their cozy home, unaware of my precious moments in the same exact place in a different time. The building has erased all that once was.
p6. I am not sure how long I will be able to carry these bittersweat memories. The bitterness is slowly taking over.
p7. I leave the residential area behind and walk towards the edge of the city.
