Life Near

2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43

Life is near.

Some people don’t need to decorate the house for Halloween, some don’t need to change clothes to scare others, some don’t need to wait until they come to frighten them in exchange for sweets, this all happens to them every day. The arrival of the dead and the feeling of this mystical horror has become commonplace, the lights are no longer so yellowish-matte, they have become cold white-glossy, gradually displacing the mysticism and thrill of the night with their pragmatic look at the horror that carries alive messages about life, about the life of the dead, which is closely intertwined with the ignorance of the living about living, disgustingly beautiful life, when you are alive and do not know what to do with it.

It hovers between the lines, hiding behind houses and in the coffee grounds, flowing down the rooftops, in pigeon eyes, this feeling of the presence of something invisible and intangible, this is what you can only feel in your fantasies about the world around you and about yourself in it. There is something alien to us, to our consciousness, something more powerful, living nearby, inviolable, holy. We literally loaded it with our bodies, we want to hide, but nothing comes of it. In space, in the sea, in the mountains, in a dream, everything is the same, we do not have enough space in this cramped death created by this ether, in which the island of life flounders, and one way or another, we are trying to grasp it, understand, cling to mystery, we want to penetrate inside ourselves, our integrity is so unbearable to us, drawn by this horror we climb, turn inside out, strive to escape from this never-ending itch of life on the brink of death, this eternal feeling of the presence of something, it is so exhausting with its incomprehensibility that we strive to abstract ourselves from it as much as possible by all available methods. And even in this, we still pursue our true goal - to know the horror, our anesthesia brings us death, we really "kill" every time we take a "sedative". This is a terrible sensation, it is impossible to get rid of it, because we are wholly and completely in it, we consist of it, we are repressed from it, as a metaphor for our process of repressing thoughts into the unconscious. Our process of repressing horror into the unconscious is a kind of scaled model of what happens to ourselves, how we are repressed into the unconscious of horror, and how we rush back to our home harbor. Everything is the same.

Games next to which people play, copy the games played by us, and toys in the hands of the unknown, as part of his perception of life, next to us, in ourselves, there is a game, by us.

The very idea that we are the threshold of the game, that we play, is strange, perhaps these are just the rules of the game that the toys observe, they are dead, they are objects endowed with the meaning of the player.

This world is not worth a dime until the game starts.

Humanity is tirelessly trying to create a game through which it can get access to the players and become on par with them, we create rules, virtual worlds, images, movements, sounds, we rush to light from darkness, we feel that we really need to go there, we push ourselves back, pushing out our own, as if passing the baton of the baton further, where possible, someone also sits and thinks about it.