In my madness, I have heard tones in the music, certain tones that seemed as if they were in tune with another world. I imagined sometimes that I could walk into my head where the music resounded and enter the realm of that Other. Always, too, in the corner of my eye there was a door I could not quite ever perceive — that always stayed in the outer periphery of my vision — which led to a different place, a different plane, a different existence. This alter-reality I never could grasp fully what it was....
Understand that back then, my imagination had exploded. The pulp that was left had lost, I think, a little of something that had once made it that strange creature, "human"; what was left was stuck in a state permanently out of kilter. The "mass remaining", as it were, wandered aimlessly through the shards that were once a complete mind, and the models it used to comprehend the world outside were made into place-like-things of their own.
The other world, though, that was forever hinted at and never truly glimpsed? If I think of it, it might have been the sense of the world-out-there I had disconnected from, that sense of what is real, which is taken all too granted by most — like me, once; it was now that the ordinary world was as impossible to reach as the ideal once was from the ordinary. You can always get closer and closer to an ideal, but never quite have it, never quite the feeling that you're set square at the thing itself. You make do, I suppose. That is real enough.
147
2:39am tuesday, 22nd october
Do you ever still see (or feel) that door?
Stand
2:55am tuesday, 22nd october
No, I guess I have more bearings than that, these days.
147
Stand