Tuesday 10 December 2019

MISOPHONIA

I do not know tranquility, for even at its quietest, when the world abandons its chaotic refrain for an infinitesimal moment, I am subjected to the sound of life.
My ragged breath, infected with tar and cholesterol, struggling forth from my coal black lungs, falls limply out of my mouth and nose, defeated by its gruesome origin. It meets the fresh, incoming horde that is all a-bustle with zest and enthusiasm. It infects them with its disillusionment so that, even as the horde enters my person, it is already a minion of despair.
This arrhythmic phenomenon plays out over and over, keeping time for decay and degradation, flooding the universe with discordant malaise.
It is a constant reminder to me of my frailty, of my insignificance, of my helplessness.
And yet, I do not begrudge it its existence, for even the botched may demand its right to exist. What I object to is its extortion. I partake of its abortive existence without consent. I was not consulted when this commingling took birth. I am a bonded labourer, forced to participate in this parasitical endeavour.
For it is a parasite, and nothing more. Always begging the Universe for life, and returning only fumes. A grey, stolid edifice that spews forth toxicity. I did not wish my body to be an imitation of the pollutive industrial revolution. They, at least, had the excuse of facilitating progress. I consume only to prolong this downward spiral.
And yet, I am not allowed an option to extricate myself. The contract is absolute. Where the parasite wishes to go, I must carry it. I am a powerless vessel, given illusory rights and meaningless titles, but in the end, a glorified slave.
And so, though my soul craves tranquility, yearns for solace and solitude and pleads for stillness, I run headlong into cacophony, submerging myself in the brash and the loud, surrounding myself with chaos and pandemonium. Anything to distract from this endless, gangrenous hiss. Anything to drown out the festering rattle of half-life.
I live in fear of the calm. I go to bed with the frenetic, trusting in its incessantness to be my guardian through the perilous, mute nights.
One day, when I have fulfilled my obligations to this pitiless tyrant, and my body has broken beyond repair, I will be set free and embrace, unbreathing, the silent void. And only then will my soul know tranquility.

Saturday 7 December 2019

The Unwanted Tenant

I do not know much about my past. It seems all aswirl with vague wisps of sounds and urges. It is far too liquid for my simple brain to grasp, to come to terms with, to claim.

My first memory is of a beautiful visual. To those who have lived and remembered long, it may not seem all that wondrous, but to me at the time, with my near non-existent body of experience, it was breathtaking.

It was, for lack of a better word, a box. Not a dead, drab box of cardboard and creases, but a living, throbbing, all-encompassing box. It was my universe and I had no trouble believing in its infiniteness.

It seemed to be saturated with the stuff of life, and I unabashedly nourished myself at its expense. The ectoplasmic texture did not repulse me, I felt one with it. I did not feel like a consumer, but a fellow amoeboid, at once imbuing and being imbued.

And I grew.

There are various forms of power that sentient beings seek to manifest in their lives, many that have been studied, written about and analyzed ad nauseum. But there is none that approaches the sheer euphoric experience of pure expansion. There are its subsidiary forms that man and beast have practiced, i.e. territorial expansion, expansion of the phallic member, so-called expansion of the mind. Each of these has enthralled man from the beginning of time, and yet how hollow, how frail they seem in comparison to true expansion.

I grew at a disconcerting rate, my infantile mind was not equipped to coordinate such vast entities. I flailed uncontrollably, and my malleable shoebox universe contorted itself to accommodate me.
And as I grew, I became cognizant of the first stirrings of my bane.

It grew from within, an unrelenting volcanic urge, the ferocity of which overwhelmed me. No longer did I feel the oneness, the merging of two homogenic entities. All I felt now was a yearning, a deep, wild lust for possession, for absolute domination.

And as this seething, animalistic urge reached its zenith, disaster struck. Suddenly, my safe, secure existence was assaulted with the cold winds of reality. My liquid life-stuff drained away, baring my just formed skin to the rough, vulgar kiss of the ragged air.

My universe began to convulse, tossing me hither and thither with gay abandon, bending me to its will. Gone was the accommodating, nourishing love. And, for the first time in my fledgling life, I felt fear.

This was not a passing mood. This was a brutal spurning, a message sent in the clearest terms. My advances had been rejected absolutely and I was no longer welcome.

Everywhere, the walls squeezed at me, pressuring me towards the harsh and ugly light. I thrashed in desperation, but one cannot outmuscle one’s creator. I found myself gasping, when I had never needed to breathe before. I felt pain, a sensation I could not have imagined in my darkest dreams. But, over and above the entire miasma, the scalding spear that pierced to my very core, was my unsatiated lust. It grew too strong within me for it to be denied an object. Rejection was not acceptable. It gnawed at my insides, ravaging all in its wrath, and in excruciation, I shrieked.

As my primal wail reverberated through space and time, my universe contorted itself one last time, pressing me through a gap that seemed to small to allow me through, as if it was not meant for me, but for some less significant creature. I felt the indignity of this forced departure severely, and yet I had no time to wallow in my grief. For, with jarring suddenness, I was introduced to my new universe.

Many words and emotions flitted through my head as I took in my new world. Its vastness seemed unfathomable, and yet it was not awe that overcame me, it was disgust.

While my shoebox had throbbed and hummed and moved to its own symphony, maintaining a melodic oneness with its inhabitants, this new world was all brash cacophony and discordant din.

And the ugliness.

Vulgar and depraved colors struck my eyes, causing me anguish beyond cognition. Warped and deformed beings in strange skins surrounded me, jabbering at me in barbaric tongues. Why was this universe allowed to exist? Where was its melody? Where was the unity?

The sensations overwhelmed me, I felt putrid hate rise up within me and it spewed out the orifice in my face. I felt the world around me darken, as my eyes refused to open again, and my heart, in protest, stood still.