"Alienation"- (a random narrative) Not biographical.
"Sometimes I feel like I don't really know anyone at all. Not even my father, my best friends, my brothers, my mother. Not really, not truly, not like they know themselves. And in return it's as if they cannot know me either. It's like as human beings we are cut off by the barrier of our bodies. The barrier of human flesh. To me it feels as if the body acts like an unintended, unmovable, wall that hides something, and restrains of from really getting in touch with one another.
Desperate I find myself searching for a way to get around the opaque figures that prevent me from knowing my family and friends as whole, true people. To know them beyond what they choose to tell me, beyond what they look like, beyond what I can judge and observe, but to somehow grasp more then this outside shell, these personalities made of a code of transparent, censored information and obtain a real connection with the individuals I love.
Yet it's as if the skin, the muscle, the bone prevent me from what I am seeking. It's like when you feel so angry and hollow that you turn up your music full blast and yet it's still not loud enough to satisfy. Or when you make love, and though you are united physically, in a position that is the closest you can be with another person, yet the whole act feels superficial. As if you were naively expecting a new degree of closeness to precipitate like a chemical reaction constructed in a lab.
It's as if you can't snuggle close enough to your mother's bosom as a baby, to your cat as a child, or your boyfriend as an adult. No matter how tight you hold them you still have this irritating, discouraging feeling of incompleteness and separateness. Almost of failure. Like you are a lava lamp blob constantly bumping against the other blobs sending you bouncing off in an opposite direction in all your disgruntled fury, never receiving that spiritual moment of joining fully with another that you have been awaiting.
Life, day to day, even with the closest of closest individuals in your life is still unchangeably seperate. There must be something more, I think to myself, as I lie in bed at night. There must be some way to truly connect with people's hidden, whole selves.
As if trying to solve an impossible problem, I review each possibility over and over again in my half asleep mind. Amazed each time by the underwhelming, shortage of viable options to consider. The possibilities appear to me as if I am trying to travel past a massive wall, unmovable, with sides that are never ending. The only options available; under, over, around or through and none comes close to being the answer because there is not a solution to this absurdity.
As a last attempt I lay in bed bewildered and picture a body split in two. As a truly, sane, rational individual I wonder hypothetically if I were to cut someone apart, straight down the middle, if any boundary would be alieveated. But now, in my mind's eye I am frustrated to be faced with more solids. Organs, muscle and bones. It's as if I had expected there to be an empty cavity waiting for me like a treasure chest at the end of a long hunt. A white light, like a star, hovering in the center of the torso. Or a spirit, white and misty, flying out of the split as if escaping through a crack in a genie's magical lamp. Such an obscure image that you might expect it to be quickly sucked up by a Ghost Buster's vacuum cleaner hose.
A light, an escaping spirit, anything to unite me with others. Anything to lead me to the end of this lonely tunnel. To succeed in my search for connectiveness".
