Another Day, Another Blog

April 23, 2007

In which Iamza’s prose becomes more and more purple

Filed under: the joy of life — iamza @ 11:10 am

I am an observer, divorced from reality, watching as the world passes by my window. The double-glazed panes speckled with sea-spray morph into an inter-dimensional wall, separating me from the rest of humanity.

Behind me, on the mantel, a clock beats with monotonous regularity. Tick, the sound expands, tock, filling the room, tick, like the pulse, tock, of another universe.

Unphased by the trans-dimensional journey, sunlight streams through the glass barrier. It drifts lazily across the laminate wood floor, making it glow golden-yellow underfoot. The half-drawn drapes are hot to the touch, and my pocket-dimension smells of heated material, dust, and a hint of vanilla.

I reach out, brush the glass with a finger-tip. It feels cold and smooth, and for one brief fanciful moment, I imagine that it is the surface of a pool of dry water. Is this how fish feel, drifting near the surface of the sea, looking up at the ocean of atmosphere that stretches endlessly overhead? Watching, wondering, as that other world is bathed in light, then darkness, then light again?

Maybe whale-song is a celebration of yearning. For, while it might be lonely to belong solely to one world whilst dreaming of another, how much worse must it feel to belong part to one world, part to another, and yet wholly to neither?

A cloud passes in front of the sun, and my room chills. Still, the clock ticks on monotonously. Time runs its own universe-wide course, a marathon whose finish line signals the ultimate end. And we, we are but spectators. Observers of many realities, and, if we are lucky, participants in one or two.


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