Edge of darkness

Nightmares for the advanced

....I could literally feel the coldness in the landscape, see packs of wolves driving thru the windblown snow in the intense dark blue winter night, the reindeer standing nervously to the side, the dogs anxious, airing their close relatives. And I was wondering about these newcomers, standing there with me, people not living outside, whose idea of an outdoor meal would be a nicely decked table in a quiet garden in summer, not dried meat and seething hot tea while lying on my back in a snowdrift to get out of the wind. I think all these thoughts struck me and immediately and irrevocably set me aside, like a wide chasm driven around me, talk about mind power...

But there is something about the personal physical experience and its reality, although your friends and family invariably will demand you forget and retune your memories to something socially acceptable, not to mention recreate them from villains to heroes, it’s not like you can leave your mind behind, I had that dream again last night. It used to be I’d dream about loosing a finger, keeping it in my pocket all day, waiting for somebody to take the time to drive me to the O.R. it was invariable too late, and often they would say straight out that they never intended to drive me in the first place, they just said it to keep me quiet, and that that kind of medical attention was way too sophisticated for someone like me, a simple worker and slave. In the dreams I would be living under the stairs on a couple of blankets, pretty much like a dog, stealing food.
Now the dreams are more complex, they come to me and say that with my condition they need to remove my arm (or sometimes arms, hands, legs) never giving a diagnose. Sometimes they say it is because there is a change in my arm, so it looks like an arm, (and functions like an arm for me…) but due to the fact that it is changed and not “proper/correct” any more they don’t need me to have that arm anymore. I ask what I’m going to do without the arm and they say it is not a problem because I will not do work demanding two arms anymore. And I keep thinking it’s not the arm, it’s the work, adapting me to the job, to the society, the family and only being able to do that thru major physical damage and loss, handicapping me forever. I fear this night...

posted by Fawn @ 3:09 PM 0 comments

At the edge of light

I think it was probably as I was looking towards the midnight sun from the skihill that I was for certain noticing it - how it really wasn't light, at all. The wind was driving tru the skilift behind me, the cable whipping it's bearings like an ancient bell in Tibet or something and all around me people were talking, some youngsters driving their stripped volvos up and down the face of the hill, almost but not quite overturning, churning up the sad turf in wide bands, spraying us with dried dirt and the wind catching short phrases scentences fragmented into utter chaos. It wasn't really light at all, the little sun all the way over to one side, the landscape bathed in different shades of blue and the mountainrange and nearby lakes still shrouded in ice and snow. I could literally feel the coldness in the landscape, see packs of wolves driving tru the windblown snow in the intense dark blue winternight, the reindeer standing nervously to the side, the dogs anxious, airing their close relatives. And I was wondering about these newcomers, standing there with me, people not living outside, whose idea of an outdoor meal would be a nicely decked table in a quiet garden, not dried meat and seething hot tea while laying on my back in a snowdrift to get out of the wind. These thoughts struck me and suddenly set me apart, my eyes narrowing. They were tourists from easier parts of the world, and although I pretended to be like them, my zipped anorak told a different story, my genes were hard at work, keeping me out of the wind.

posted by Fawn @ 7:17 AM 0 comments