One may be fortunate enough to have the privilege of not having to worry about themselves. Not to worry about the world accelerating at such speeds that it would take a lifetime to take in all the effects of one single day. Meanwhile, I do not have the luxury of being an independent being, but in exchange, I do have a place where I could be in my best element. I am in control over the plains that construct my inner lair or lairs for that matter. By no means can I take things from the real world and take them on over a deadly rumble, but rather take them easy, at a pace which I can control. But before I dive into this world of mine, how silly it sounds…, why are there people who do not care about the things that are actively happening around them? It baffles me the way these people live their lives.
I’ll tell you a little secret about myself. I am majorly insecure about the fact that one may call a period of their lives the present, but then fail to realize exactly how fast things go by. As a matter of fact, it scares me quite a lot to think about this very thing. At the same time, there are people who do not care in the smallest bit about what they may capture in their lives to be worth to hold on to, afterwards slowly releasing them into the memory pool of an individual. Well, you see, that’s the funny part about it. Regardless of how conscious you are about the pace of your own life, you cannot hold onto them for any longer than they hold value to you. So it is with a good book, for instance, or a brand-new watch that you have just got from your parents after graduation.
These things fall into obscurity the moment they no longer belong to our present. Well, you could look back at them, hold them, rejoice in them all you want, but the actual value is not in the object itself, but rather the times you lived through with them. I often look back at my old copybook from eighth grade. Besides the horrible handwriting that would even challenge a pharmacist’s, the thing that I see and feel are those very moments I spent with my friends during class, not caring in the slightest about the lecture, the teacher, hell, even our futures. Oh, enough about me rambling, I promised we would go on a bit of a journey, didn’t I?
All right, then, hold on tight, concentrate. Get into the zone… - Done? All right, now just stop grasping your chair and relax. I am just pulling your leg. You see? Don’t concentrate on anything. Just look at my eyes as I blink. Just don’t stop blinking yourself, ok? Your eyes will go sore. Yeah… Just like that…
There we go… With a motion similar to rolling back your eyes, much like falling back into an armchair, we start travelling. After a few minutes of silence, I stood still, alone. Turns out I was just talking to myself. How weird… Regardless, I will not stop here. After all, I am all relaxed. Not a single care in sight. A strange bit about this “place” is that it really isn’t confined to a metaphysical plane. A bit hard to picture the area, I know, even harder to coordinate without having a physical body myself. A good thing about this situation, outside of not having to shower every day is that I can “move” with my mere thought.
I emerged into existence in a musty room. This would be the first lair. The first thing that hit me was the smell. I suppose after regaining my senses, smell would be the strongest, but really, would it be so hard to open a window once in a while? Well, I am probably at fault here. After all, when I was still back at the neutral place, I really could have imagined a window here.
The room wasn’t all that complex, this could be said about my inner world in general, I suppose. A regular, square room, brick walls, low ceiling. The floor was made from cobblestone, with marks of human life. No footsteps, though, just hair, small pieces of clothing, no bones, though. That should mean no one actually got stuck here. A bit that stuck out was a single piece of brick in the far-right corner of the room. It was slightly darker.
As I got closer to the corner of the room, I looked around a bit more. Just recently from where I got up, there stood a white door. Maybe that is where I came from? I do not remember entering through said door… But this brick, it fascinates me for whatever reason. After a bit of tinkering, I actually managed to get it out. Great, now I have a brick, and limited time to sustain my survivability. I turn back to exactly where the door was located. To my surprise, it was completely gone. I look back to the corner of the room. There was the same brick in the exact position from where I took it. Problem is, I am holding the brick… In my hand. But the same brick is in the wall still.
In my utter confusion, I decide to look back again at the part of the room where the door was. Believe it or not, there were two bars, much like in a sewer close to the ceiling. At an elegant speed, I put two and two together and figure out that I can use the bricks to climb up to the bars. So, I try to pull out the other brick. Not an easy job this time, it wouldn’t move. All right, I put down the other one to get a better grip on the thing. Without the slightest of effort, it comes out flying from the wall.
The dust from the wall went right into my eye. My temporary blindness was accompanied by a bit of a dry cough. After the storm settled, I grabbed for the other brick. Lord oh heavens, it was gone. There was one in my arm already, the other one in the wall. All right, then, I’ll make do without the other one. I lay down the brick on the ground, near the bars. I stood up on it to see that really, the bars were much closer than I had thought. I didn’t need the other one. I grabbed on the bars and pulled myself through.
As I pulled through, I found myself in front of any empty chair. I suppose you left while I was off doing business with yours truly. I guess my mind can only take on one person at a time. Well, while I am at it, why not immerse ourselves a bit deeper.
I escaped reality that day: a space that defied the laws of physics, or any sense of logic. I haven’t a single clue how much I was in there. In that room. Neither do I remember how heavy the brick was. It was almost like reality was only the room itself. As I left through the bars, I arrived back here… How strange… I was yet to be able to control it. Even after a long time, I couldn’t figure out whether the white door would have lead anywhere, either. I guess I do not have the permission of going there.
Mezei Csaba XI. H
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