Loss for words.
by james r. ~ June 24th, 2008. Filed under: blogfill, reposts.“She had eyes like shadows on glacier ice. Or maybe it was more like summer sky locked in a circle of thundercloud bruise-violet.”
I like that. I wrote that four years ago. I don’t know who I was talking about.
I’m at a loss for words right now, so here’s something I wrote on July 28, 2004. Back when I thought it was cool to write without using any capital letters. Stop rolling your eyes at me. It was.
Anyway… I’ll get back to Our Regularly Scheduled WIYWOY soon. Ish.
i remember waking up one morning, and for a few seconds i didn’t know. i was a complete blank. didn’t know who i was. didn’t know where i was. didn’t know anything.
there’s a level of mental noise that is constantly wandering through the background in your brain. awarenesses of various kinds: self, place, time, the senses…they’re always on. always there. they’re on, and as a constant, we eventually don’t notice them. it’s like the high-pitched noise that a TV’s cathode-ray tube makes. it’s there as the electron gun scans back and forth; it’s there up at the top end of your hearing. but you won’t hear it until and unless you’re in complete quiet. haven’t you ever walked into a place and remarked, “There’s a TV on, somewhere.” no? i guess that was just me.
but your brain is like that, too. the electron gun in your brain is firing constantly, neurons popping with stimulation each time the beam scans the screen of your mind’s eye and ear. we become accustomed to it. like learning to sleep in the car on a roadtrip. the sound of the wind fades into the sound of the engine into the sound of the radio into the sound of the tires on the asphalt. all the noise fades into the rest of the noise.
but i woke up and there was nothing. blank. empty. void. silent in my head, except for the chatter of the morning show clattering through the speaker on my clock radio.
but in my head, even the voice of identity that whispers, you are he, you are he, this is you, you do this, you are this, this is you, you are he was silent. and i knew nothing.
it frightened me. because the one thing i did know, was that i should know these things.
so i stared at the dark, at the ceiling, and eventually the noise of the radio brought back the noise in my head: you are he, you are he, this is you, you do this, you are this, this is you, you are he.
and it all came back.
the first thought after that of relief, was the wishing that i could return to that place of nothing.
sometimes i still wish.
July 12th, 2008 at 1:03 pm
I understand that and wish the same. Sometimes.
July 12th, 2008 at 7:37 pm
@ Gina: *nods* Exactly. Sometimes.