The Unobserved Exist Without You

There exists, a pervasive side of human experience, an uncommon curious side of perception, largely ignored, left to exist in a massively personless expanse, somewhere between spaces. A dimension that does not foster security, nor replicative possibility in the way in which is commonly desired.

A niche, seemingly unfortunate population stumble or push their way into these secret worlds. Be they psychic, ethereal, paranormal corporeals, or otherwise; one can be assured they will face ridicule and social excommunication if they tread into the wild grass, delve into caves, and are discovered by the outsiders. Places and things that have to be observed with a balance between objectivity and subjectivity, the variable of the individual causing the scientific process to shift into slippery dust.

The universe is not dependent upon sentient logical processes of the beings that come out of it, and the underworkings, that most people have an innate ignorance toward will carry on without a person’s awareness.. Just as species upon exoplanets will subsist without our awareness, and the wind upon a planet without sentient observation will carry on as it has before life formed on Earth.

Advertisements
The Unobserved Exist Without You

Memoria

I can run fast, decades can pass–still she still haunts me, not through her volition, but through the ghosts I’ve made; my own unrelenting link to her. Vibrating ethereal platinum in a sea of bronze. None graze the euphoric daze she sparked in me. That force she birthed, frightened me, and through my self-assessed inadequacy, I lost her, but the spark she made remains. No new friend or lover has marred it. No failure or success has loosened its embedding. I don’t know, if I ever found someone capable of creating another such ethereal link that I’d want it. Perhaps I would. Alas after so many years, neither rust nor degradation has weakened my link to her.

She has moved onto new dances, and while I’ve transformed into newer versions of myself, that link, that chain persistently remains. Memories relived become more vibrant, twist the past into impossible worlds, and while the core is indeed fact, time and that constant gandering, create illusions of even grander events, the link becomes denser, cladened in precious stones, and no one else I’ve met has gifted me a new spark, a glimpse into something beyond the mundane. Instead, time’s deepening, forges new accending conceptualizations of the meaning of her iridescent starlight.

Perhaps, it is fitting that I don’t find another, perhaps, it would devolve me into stagnation. Artistic progress would crumble, my interests in story telling would become not but self-indulgence, and nothing of substantiality can ever be cultivated by staring into a mirror. Even still, the desire for her, which can never be fulfilled will subsist. Beyond just the ‘feeling’ with which she enlivened my body, I miss her. I miss every aspect of her. But, there is nothing I can do, but deepen my artistic exploration, in hope that I uncover some hidden truth that mightn’t exist. An inarticulative truth that I have sought for beyond recollection, which won’t alleviate my bridge to her, but might afford me some glimpse into consciousness beyond my singular self. Something close to what she created within me.

Memoria