(Segment 22)
My nights have recently become depraved. Recessed holes tunnelled through grey matter, everything seems to come back to that odd lump of flesh upstairs, or rather, on the ground floor. Anything above is upstairs, and anything below is the basement. I hope for the sake of this writing, that you (dear reader) are fond of strolling in the garden, because that is what I would liken this to – garden strolling. My eyes are worn down to disks of stinging flesh, and my back aches from the extended sitting. I would love to garden stroll right now, but it is cold out, there is no light, and most importantly, I am currently in a segment.
Instruction
Go for a walk in a garden
The holes on the ground level do feel fillable, that is a positive in the very least. But I am not sure they need to be filled in. They most certainly do not need to be filled in with concrete. Concrete is a lousy conductor (myelin sheaths absent). Currently, myelin sheaths are helping me to make these absurd connections slightly faster. This sounds like a good thing initially, but the longer I connect the less sure I become.
Writing in the middle of the night is a distressing experience.
I am distressed.
I would like to go to sleep.
Although I am currently trapped by the decisions of a past self – trapped to sit in the middle of the night and write – I am actually evoking freedom through the negative space. The surrounds are freeing. I could, before the time has arrived, close my laptop and go to bed. But such a decision may exhibit no more freedom than the decision to trap one’s future self for an hour of time. In fact it may be less free. Giving in to this urge to sleep, no matter how strongly it is desired, is a direct prompting of the limbic[1] (sworn enemy).
Can one foster a sense of ‘inner freedom’ from within the bounds of a cage precisely because one chooses to remain within that cage? Perhaps the most freeing moment of a circus lion’s life comes when the lion is presented with an opportunity to leave, but decides to remain instead, purely because it enjoys putting on a good show for the people. Ralph the lion takes his craft seriously. Ralph chooses not to give the iron bars around him the power to keep him enclosed.
My bookshelf is staring out at me from its negative spaces again.
[1] You can find a definition of the Limbic in Segment 19 – between 20:00 and 21:00.