Monday, February 4, 2013

identities / eternities

Thus I can assert that this moment did not happen, this moment never happened, by eliding past it and focusing instead on the time before, or the time after. Perhaps settling my gaze on the indistinct and unformed crystals of time that await excavation in the future, the essence of what will be drifting tantalizingly towards the past, beckoning, beckoning: forsake your empty memories and come forward, forward. And I try, I try, I grasp the corner of the future offered as proof that time does exist, I strive and pull and reach for that which one day will be, and I am always caught up short locked in a present devoid of memories and empty of anticipation.

There is only the here and the now, and the present has none of the bottled sunshine of the past, the present has none of the tempting aromas of the future. The present is the deep impenetrable fog of a cloud obscuring every possible direction, the present is shapeless and without form. The smooth calm surface of the mind is instead the rough ocean waves that indicate either a storm has passed or a storm is brewing, but without the cues formed by memory, the present is both anticipation of a storm about to arrive as well as the exhaustion of a storm weathered. The present is dark skies that are either meteorological or nightfall, but there is neither sun nor moon to give form to the void of darkness.