THIGH

Posted by Rick de Jong on



Kagami Smile - Thigh \\ BLCR 0066

He disappeared into the void, somewhere between the toothpaste and medication aisles. He reached out for toothpaste and his hand gradually shrank into a miniscule fragment. He looked at his hands becoming miniscule and then noticed his whole body had become miniscule. Somewhere between toothpaste and medication. The quiet sound of grocery store muzak faded away into nothingness. He fell into a hole and wind swirled around him. His consciousness swirled into a froth of regurgitated residue and he was sucked into the hole. A torn apart being he floated amongst white light for what could have been hundreds of years, grocery store muzak smashed apart slowly seeping into his torn apart hands, his dismantled pelvis and feet. The void flowed into the wrecked bits of his head and came out regurgitated as tiny bits of scrap. Several thousand voices from far away yet at a proximate distance from him began calling to him. He flew into the ether just the same. He remained hollow, discombobulated, and a strewn apart consciousness hovering over an aisle of someone else’s mind.

He left through an unmarked door sitting near the end of the void. An egg shaped door that had a faint trace of glowing light underneath it. There was a voice beyond the door. It told him in indecipherable tones to open the door, but he did not understand it was telling him to open the door. He stared at the egg shaped door and fathomed its reason for being a door. His body was the shape of a murky puddle and contained slush and fragments of his brain rewired into the purgatory of the space he was now in. He stood looking at the egg shaped door, himself torn into 50 pieces, all with pupils, corneas, and retinas attached each with their own thought processes, bewildered that there was a door standing before him and all of his bits that surrounded him. He could not understand that the door was telling him to go in.

He left through and unmarked door and another egg shaped door faced him. This one did not have a glowing halo of light underneath it but darkness. A faint trace of liquid seeped out from under the door’s crack. Fragments of his brain shattered into tiny bits squirmed near the liquid of the cracked door. The wires in his brain detected a message of somewhat being. The muzak of the grocery store played beyond the door. The sludge of his brain confirmed the grocery store must be on the other side and he could squirm over there, all of the pieces of his brain, body, matter, cells, and could squeeze inside of the door and perhaps be absorbed into the boundless infinity that joins the door. However the same cryptic tones called out to him from the other side telling him to open the door. But every sense of his wired torn apart substance told him not to open the door. The only thing he discerned being the quiet abandoned sounds of muzak from a hole that was somewhere above him or in another place altogether.

The unmarked door magnetically pulled him, or what remained left of him towards an archaic floor that smelled of cheap antique wood and upholstered memories from a dwindling past. He drifted and dawdled through a crack in the floor, stubbing his brain on a dilapidated wood fragment, tumbling down into a microscopic chasm of weariness. The sound of flowing water from a room that perhaps existed underneath him under an instance of time or through a part of the void that any shape of him had not discerned yet. So his head oozed into remnants of decayed floor parts and into the tapping hum hum of discarded rain water flowing into a microscopic yet facilitated river of metals.

Through the violet haze of cheap residue. A stain of years past or a collided stream of consciousness dissected two fold into a microscopic void, part of him fell into a bar with strange faces. A lounge of business types sitting around a giant holograph of a conference in progress. A silver shadow of an artificial woman speaking about the changing rates of various types of currencies entering into the market. His brain split in two, and the right half disappeared further down a wormhole type opening on the floor of the bar. He was being sucked in. The vacuum of unified consciousness pulling him in. The smell of fresh water and a still pool of a spring at some depth away. He swam in the pool, his left brain being attacked by his right, assailed by the voices of the business men from the bar on a particular high rise in some city inside of his mind. On the gargantuan behemoth jutting into the skyline, some seventy stories up and the flashing LEDs absent mindedly pulsing, surrounding him. And the still pool clarity of a spring quietly suggesting some inner peace amongst the calamity of metropolitan after thought unconsciously forming a mouth before him.