Feb 26, 2009

tracking with close-ups

Und: In Englisch!

You just lie there, in some crappy bungalow in northern Thailand, some day, some time. Probably night, as you hear the animals from outside, through the thin wooden walls comes every single sound. Staring at the ceiling, you think about the day and about the things you saw and the complexity of life and death. And then you start thinking about the ceiling itself. A simple corrugated iron roof, light & shade in an endless row toward the far away walls. Time becomes a theoretic conception again; you recognise the importance of the metric system. Shades begin to move, shadows become figures, the roof itself becomes the front of a building, or a door, or a space station. Figures begin to dance, colors begin to change.

Then there is a click, deep at the very center of things, and the world is frozen. You close your eyes. In the bloodlit darkness behind your eyes you see silver patterns closing in from the edge of space, images jerking past like film compiled from random frames. Symbols, figures, faces...a mandala of brain-waste.

Your inner eye opens to the labyrinth of brain, synapses scurry along thin pathways. A whole universe made of knowledge and wisdom, errors and gaps spreading and disappearing.

And somewhere - you, laughing. In a small bamboo hut, distant fingers caressing the blanket, tears of release straeking your face.


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Ihr Senf, bitte. Am besten verdaulich und nicht zu dick aufgetragen.