Butterfly Diaries

The rhythm of the heart matches the ceiling fan – it’s fast, but the wind cools me as well. It feels good to feel alive again, to feel my heart beat and ache, my body is reacting to the world, I am an agent in the chaos, something wants to become of this.

I don’t know. Three of the most powerful and frightening words I have encountered and expressed. I have a space for myself, yet I do not feel articulate enough to visit it.

I am thinking of a place where I lay on the same bed in this exact same posture with the exact same screen before me writing the exact same words. But I am not afraid of myself. I do not fear my inability to concoct stories. My inability to prove myself as the best. My insecurity of belonging as an artist.

This place is in my head. And now I move inside.

I only see the colour brown struggling to fade to black. I see glimpses of lost friends and memories that might betray me with their false hopes. I see complex words which mask true meanings for me. The threat of the obvious and simple eluding me makes me numb and dumb. These shields I have erected around me do not enable or protect me. Yet I do not destroy them.

For then the fog outside will come in. And nothing will be visible. Must I blind my eyes before a beautiful world or see the beauty in what doesn’t even appear?

A black hole. Vast expanse of nothingness. For some reason all my stories are set in this location. The sandbox of God and the universe – nothingness. Ever consuming blackness – whiteness – whatever colour of completeness one can imagine it to be. I exist in a freefalling, free floating state there. In limbo or gravity of all directions.

Nothing makes sense. And that is why everything does. In this space of ever growing contradictions and meaninglessness I find myself. Many selves of mine. We all float and come together, tumble, touch, and helplessly move ahead, like particles of air.

Like particles of air.

Soon reaching a state of climax. Dissolving into nothing but waves. We radiate as one and all.

Can you feel me? Can you feel us? If you can, you must know that they are within us too.

We are them.