"Congratulations to the one who came into being before coming into being,...these stones will serve you."
Within the deepest shadows of the mind, there exist a place unknown to the realm of consciousness, and turbid to the subconscious mind. Here there are no troubles, only a bare existence shaped with imagination. With regression acting as a final sanctuary from the loss of all humanly control. Life is left to the mettles of Discord, the harbinger of anxiety, to put into place an all-encompassing wall to stave off the inevitable death. Perhaps even to act as a tomb to encase one against the hardships of life; the choice is always solely up to the occupant. It is their mind to command, their life to lead; or not to lead, if they are so apt to choose.
A voice of thoughts, estranged from the passage of time, finally re-emerges from within the darkness.
Where am I? Where am I. A name, any something, only shadows come to the front. Shadows and hurt. A bright agitated feeing pulled across a thin dream. Twisted too tightly, turned upside down to the conscious realm of fear. Memories of nothing, the hazy darkness, fragments that appear too real to an inspired smile, yet so faint and fading. Holding on to the shady veil of a liquid ink-sky covering the existence of a slim shaped reality. Going up or is not having? Disoriented confusion. Think. Think. Here left with an instant lack of how over abundantly unclear aggregation of thoughts could be? Answers, seemingly adrift images to the distance of the moment, floating untraced through the mire. Hidden in the monotonous folds of chaos, each transcending dominating order or just missing in the deformed interpreter. What happened? What happened. Grounded and quickly sinking from a flight out of the now sunken depression. Hurt and pain. Anger. Agitation, perturbations of feeling red, blue, each left regulating my nature, echoing dissonance in these confines. Hmmm, concentrate on a free-floating designation. There, a tiny flash of familiarity, try informal utilization of perceptions not viewed through the offerings of the real world. Illusive grasp upon so distantly close, Flash. Black, orange, cat, cool sweetness in the air, disguise? Pull another, Flash. In the garden, green, brown, yellows and reds, the warmth of smells entice, working hard at not revelling. Soon there by the ocean, blue, green, tasting brine, cooling sea spray echoing gulls. Misplaced fun. Melted, muddled memories or is this truly reality? The likeness of seen images forsaken to mocking fantasy. How has life come to joke relative to victimizing cruelty, uncertainty to the ironic laughter? Companions with a beaten toiling in doom; Hopelessness is my untimely demise or pending my salvation. No streets are in sight of escape, just broken legs, leaving one avenue. There is only imperious sadness. Will is tapped and draining away. Should the beginning end through dread of survival?
Such melancholy sentiment rouses a different voice from out of the conscious part of the mind.
“No, it shouldn’t. Such an act would destroy us both and I’m not quite ready to give up on life that easily. Fuck sakes, am I ever relieved to see you again. I was starting to think that you wouldn’t be coming back. It really had me worried. I’ve never been alone before, not like this. It was all I could do to fend off this feeling of panic. I wasn’t made to be alone, that goes against my whole purpose for being. Where in the hell have you been for the past month? I must have searched every nook and crevice for you, but each time I always came up empty. I’d shout out your name and only my echoes would resonate back to me. I was starting to think this was the end. Then, for no apparent reason, this feeling of complete and utter despair suddenly overwhelmed me. For this reason, I knew you had finally returned. Ha-ha! What do you make of that? Hey! What’s the matter with you?”
“Phantom! Who are you? Is it Damocles comes to taunt me? Shifting pressures emulating the temper shaking of stress? You, the self-imposed director of make-belief and dreams, plaguing my blinded waking eyes. Conspicuously, a hush-hush noise pushing onward towards another onslaught of disillusions coming. Let your tongue run, shoo the cat. Puzzling curiosity burns me heavily in confusion. Speak. Speak now.”
“Shit!” I know this can’t be good. I should have figured something like this would have happened. Well, at least he’s back. All right I can handle this, just one tiny step at a time. Still, it’s hard to tell how much damage was done to him? He seems so... unfocused? Where does this leave us? “ I am your friend. Do you know who you are?”
“No, just a skeleton, left full on the emptiness of the sky, pointing in the opposite direction to sensibilities, each buried under the table. Your troubled mask covers a concealed face; purposely radiating a feigning smiles of sorts. Standing paused, you hide trouble well. Aha! You are Arethusa’s lover; present in lieu of lonely darkness. Sigh. Untrue to the near-sighted distant memories of warming enlightenment, most of them; unheard in quantity enough to disallow the blue, chilling song of decease.”
“Please, lets try to not think about that alternative. Hope has not left you yet.” Hmmm, I can see a spark of something in you. I’m just a little unsure of what that might be. I don’t think you’re as far gone as I had initially thought. “Can you try to remember your name for me?”
“Never, windows are scarce; closed off to the planet sights or the vivid sounds. This voiding space of anything and everything, leaves the imaginations clean of memories. This rich chaos so neatly organized. Odd to ask and even to wonder, so uneven. Left toting impatient and aggravations. Questions? Question.”
“Fair enough. All right, your name is Nolan. Nolan Willis. Does that shake anything loose?”
“Hmmm, Nolan. Nolan, knowledge so obtuse with the blinking name, yet preclusions frown upon distant tears that trickle down shaken flesh; previewed existence ringing out loud. So acutely angled, sharp and keen. This is me! I am Nolan! Cutting into me aloud, but where does this leave you?”
“Well, that’s a little more complex to explain at the present time. Let’s just say that I’m a “friend” and leave it at that for now. We’ve known each other for a long while. I only want to help you remember who you are. Your situation in life is, well unique and like a puzzle piece, I fit into it somewhere.”
“Recognition lies on the horizon somewhat clear but distant, perhaps in wait. Coiled around a blade of grass, a tree of families, patience to spring upon me. Permissiveness and understanding are both there, surrounded by trust for purposes unknown to me. Exhaling all of my fears of you away. My name is Nolan. What will you be called?”
“I don’t remember having a name; you had never given me one. I eventually questioned whether this was your way of retaining control over me. Perhaps, as a bit of insurance against me from striking out and starting a life of my own. I was created to protect you after all.”
“How is it so, sounding words left to wallow in a query? Chains and cages left banging around you, feeling untrue, perhaps owning nothing. Least of which slaves, here confusion mingles with the explanation as to why. Pick a sound; such breathy winds do not whisper nothing into the air. Ponder. Be it still... ”
“Let me ponder on this one for a bit. I’ve got to go. Someone needs to man the ship so to speak. Otherwise, we'll veer off course and people will talk. Besides, I was in the middle of something when you came back. I really should get back to it. Focus on any other details that you can remember. We’ll talk again later. We'll get through this, I promise.”
Though once again united in form, a single voice becomes consciously active in the reality of day to day, while the other, waits in behind.
