I can’t shake the feeling of change that’s tingling up and down my spine, it’s eerie. Like a message my sensory system understands, but my linguistic tank has burned up and I cannot grasp comprehension for what it could possibly mean. Sitting on the edge of a vortex and I’m helpless to keep from falling in.
I’ve know this feeling a few times before. The unexplainable acceptance of detachment. Of being fully committed to the future without having signed the contact. Wearing boots filled with concrete and unable to move or run away, locked in and rooted while my head remains free to spin around and around fighting with thoughts a feelings immobilized. Like the eerie silence of wind that dies right before a storm.
I see the current world status through filtered eyes. Looking sideways at the chaos while feeling it close by with my hands. It’s too bright to look eye to eye with its magnitude of questions. My life is changing, freedoms given up, surrendered to a cause that feels unchanging. Efforts lost to the demise of nothing more than a common cold that refused its commonality. Running rampant unseen and reckless in its damaging. Like a jaded Robin Hood taking work from those who need it and giving more to those who don’t. Burning out and overworking while stabbing others watching as income bleeds out.
Panic hitting shoppers with unrequited lust for rolls of toilet paper to line their basement walls, while babies and toddlers run around with bare bums. Character building or cementing deep flaws, me first flaunting their callused misunderstanding who it is their behavior is actually effecting. Social distancing, the gym is closing, frolicking about to keep life just the same, yet stranded and locked down with every canceled plan tells the story differently that life is most definitely no longer the same.
Priority, conspiracy, annoyance or vacation, this isn’t the life I signed up for, this can’t be happening to me. Priviledge, destruction, rise up higher and above, sinking in a lonely pit and questioning disaster. So many places to land, the feelings can ride out. Utter nonsense or the end of civilization as we know it.
This vortex that I sit upon blows wind around my face, the gusts pushing my hair into my face, blocking my vision and sticking to my mouth. I’m rooted to this place atop the vortex edge, like a television show of horror yet I cannot look away. I see the next couple of steps it looks more like a blind endless fall. Momentum carrying me from this page to the next. Perhaps just a chapter, merely a page and the story rolls right on, but somewhere deep within my gut I feel there’s so much more actually happening. Not the ending if a chapter put an ending of Part 1.
I can’t put it into words, linguistics have no place, this vortex only speaks subtly to the feeling in my gut, that tickles hairs all up my spine right up to my neck. The feeling that something has changed and I know I can’t go back, similar to birth and death, a door with a final shut. I know something unknowable until history looks back. I’ll wake up tomorrow to another day that looks the same as today. The only evidence of a vortex pulling me in is a view changed by the storm of a world dressed in white.
The Fish Eye 