I fell out of the tail end of January, and I've landed without a parachute in the receding days of March.
I knew that I'd come down eventually, but I didn't expect the landing to be so quick and hard; an acceleration fast enough to bruise my soul and my brain.
Snorting, head down, body taut, I ascended into the new year, blasphemous and arrogant. January was spent in suspension high over the insignificant dot of the earth, even my vast eye unable to resolve its puny inhabitants no bigger than atoms.
It always had to come to an end. I couldn't survive up there indefinitely in that frictionless expanse where thoughts collided with each other, synthesising new ones; at the fast and dangerous mouth of the river of symbols; close to the invisible scar which binds the two halves of the universe.
Every morning, I wondered if today would be the one where the flow of words which had bled from me for a month would stop. As with partners, when I pose the question, silently, upon waking, whether today is to be the day when she'll unstick herself from me and become only a shadow, a ghost, a memory. At what point will I similarly scab over and feel the torrent of ideas slow to a trickle before healing up altogether?
I used to know what it meant to write; to observe and to feel and to measure words appropriately before committing them to expression. Not any more - I can't even connect two thoughts together, and lack the vocabulary to arouse, to move.
The fall has been severe, and there was nothing with which to break it. Back on the ground, I am aghast at the difficulty of teasing apart meaning, of using the mind to penetrate beyond the superficial. All the significance and irrelevance of the universe is inverted, and I can no longer isolate that which is important from that which holds no meaning.
It was ever thus - dragging myself frustratedly through the outer edges of concepts, never able to put my head on its heartbeat that I might regulate it, for once understand what makes it alive. Now no abstract thing at all lives - I buried them all, in unmarked graves to which there is no return.
