There is something to it

Something like that translucent shield we throw up to ignore the pain. Something like reading history through wax paper.

Something about showing a crack in that shield. Something about fractures. Disjointedness. Something about distance. Like how light becomes brighter the more constrained it is. Something like containing the light of the self in a thick skin, and the light pouring out through a single crack. A concentrated beam visible only at certain angles or when obstructed. Something about mimicking true life in words…something about only being able to capture truth in the briefest instantaneous fractures of self. Something about truth only existing in the flare and burn.

Leave a Reply