01 Jun These Four Walls of Mine
How uneventful and uninspired. These walls, suffocated in layers of mortar and concealed by globs of paint. Each wall looking identical to the last. A repeating pattern of squares and bars.
Trapped in a room so grey it feels like a prison, deprived of all personality and emotion in attempts to be non-controversial, while forcing me to compulsively ponder. Does anything exist past these four walls? Is anything actually real past my constantly overflowing stream of consciousness? My boxed-in, restricted view of the world limits my perception. Not being able to see past these walls only reinforces my fear and anxiety. Even though there is no end to this thought, it still paralyses me.
Not being able to move only lets this stormy idea pour down upon me, filling up my room to the point where it feels like I’m drowning. Drowning in this heavy thought. This thought that adheres to me like super glue. Ironically, this claustrophobic state gives my thoughts room to grow. This dark damp room lends me the headspace for my ideas to blossom.
My only saving grace is a beam of light through my window. A glimpse of reality outside of my view; something to break the repeating pattern of squares and bars. It reminds me of life external to me. It reminds me of plants, wind, trees, dirt and bugs all interacting with each other, as the light shimmers down on them.
It breaks up the consistent feedback loop of the same question over and over: Is it real? Am I real? Is any of this real? Is this controlled hallucination we all experience real, or is it just a dream of mine? At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. Either way, I’m experiencing this and I can choose to let the complexities of my thoughts consume me in doubt and self-inflicted turmoil. Or, I can choose to accept the limits of my perception and enjoy this dream for what it is. Instead of forcing the time here to become a nightmare, I can become lucid and thrive in this reality.
Aedan Reynolds