I Gymnastics of the brain Bending around depressive lump Avatars and faces disfigured, mixed up. Animus N (form of Ash) dances in the ocean. Completely out of character and yet inevitable, as all things are in this place. A serious tone with a playful finish, as though folly would be the only [forceful] eternal survivor.… Continue reading Splinters (I-III)
Tag: perception
![Journal Sequence #9: There are Snakes Inside [Dreamframe]](https://crdudleycom.files.wordpress.com/2021/11/img_0095.jpg?w=900)
Journal Sequence #9: There are Snakes Inside [Dreamframe]
But there are snakes inside. One coils ever tighter around my heart and laughs. Another guards the rib cage, all smug. Another shoots venom into my gut. Another squeezes its head into my skull and talks to you through my mouth, my eyes. My breath, my only weapon. Exhale. Expand. Robots, the lot of them.… Continue reading Journal Sequence #9: There are Snakes Inside [Dreamframe]
Journal Sequence #7: Liminal People
What happened to all the moments in between? Surely in their darkness they hold the key to all this. Or have I truly moved from one scene to the next as though through a portal? Where do we go when we’re inside a portal? Where are we when we’re in between? We are liminal people,… Continue reading Journal Sequence #7: Liminal People
Writing Pareidolia
I’m fascinated by pareidolia. The way we are primed for spotting the familiar in the alien, the meaning in the senseless, the pattern in the random. The way we may or may not see the same things, like faces in froth or ponies in clouds, depending on our subjective experiences and values. Nature’s Rorschach test.… Continue reading Writing Pareidolia
Butterflies
From some unknown corner of the house, butterflies are emerging. I’ve liberated 4 this week. Frantically they fly towards the light. Meanwhile, I’ve been in a chrysalis of my own. Turned away from the world, writhing in chaos and conflict, evolving privately. Metamorphosing. I’m reading Perdido Street Station by China Miéville (at long last –… Continue reading Butterflies
Flash: Colour Bleeds Out/Only Birds
Colour bleeds out, sounds wind down. Muffled, blind. Straight lines, thick and thin, washed in white and grey. It is winter here. Gentle snowflakes fall, though they strike as something sinister. Am I the only one conscious, the only one not a golem made of meat? Playing pieces for cruel gods. This pawn has slipped… Continue reading Flash: Colour Bleeds Out/Only Birds
C.R. Dudley 