I sometimes forget how easy it is to become blind, like slipping in and out of a coma where the blankets are so thick and warm that you cant possibly resist its temptation of silence. I walked from one place to the next unable to even understand myself, and watching people pass me as they went. I was begging as ernest as I could for simple human connection and for every face I looked upon, the eyes only cast down. They wouldn’t look me in the eyes, they couldn’t. I could see into them but I knew they did not see me. We are all blind. 

So I sat, and I silently screamed in side myself and felt that overwhelming sense of sadness consume me. Have you ever cried full heartedly that it felt it took your entire body just to hold you upright? Like there was no stopping it, that it consumed you. I sat in the underground parking lot with synthetic light casting me blue, in the darks of that october night. I could feel the steam from my eyes and mouth and how it played in the light, like the fog that sets in the streets in dead winter. That was the noise in my head. Pure quiet.

Every person to pass me would do nothing about the noise I was making, and every time they turned away from me I could feel the pain grow. I was sobbing, in front of people I had never met because I was so afraid to loose them. That they would never see me again. That they would never lift off the coma. They were gone. 

I wiped my face free of strands of saliva and mucus, I pulled out a lighter and smoke from my pocket and lit up. My hands shook and I couldn’t tell if it was the cold or my own self. I smoked and did that thing where you choke up and catch your breath by shuddering. The smoke mixed with the steam, they looked identical. You were right. It is the inside of me that Im burning. Its the same god damn thing. And i sign up to take it in.

But just for one night I will let myself not feel the guilt and just sit and enjoy its simple pleasure. I will sit and think of what it is to be awake and feel the pain of connecting to this power. To this oversoul. That is all I can think of it as. Did I tell you how I had felt god up there in the mountains? How surreal it all was?

When we stood in that room and the first snow of the year was falling around us I could feel it; there was no sleep and there was no stillness in our bodies even though no one was moving. So many faces, so many beings, but yet there it was. How could you avoid such thick atmosphere? How could you deny that feeling that you know in your gut everyone felt as it pulsed in your blood? It was there. I know it was but at the same time it was beyond me. How could that be possible. There is no logical explanation in why we all could talk to each other with nothing but our aura and emotions that flooded the lodge. We were not of 60 voices but one, even if for only one second or two before the threads fell loose. Too good to last. Was that connection and feeling not holly? Was that not god? Is that sense of oversoul not god in all of us? that perhaps now what I am feeling is being cut out of my place? I cant find my connection back to it and I am being forced out of it by everyone around me. 

I have smoked three and my tremors are getting better. I can breath. 

So is it that perhaps we were never meant to live in solidarity as we do? We go about our lives as individuals. We are quiet and so torn apart from one another. The idea of being born in one body and not another, or how you possess one soul; I think this is false. I think we all posses a part of it. but not a whole. What we do every day, what we breath to do is the very same thing we strive against and are so terrified with; connectedness. We lack the oversoul and the god within. That is why I cry. That is where my sadness wells from. 

“It seems strange that my life should end in such a terrible place, but for three years, I had roses, and apologized to no one. I shall die here. Every inch of me shall perish. Every inch, but one. An Inch, it is small and it is fragile, but it is the only thing the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must never let them take it from us. I hope that whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope that the world turns and that things get better. But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you. I love you. With all my heart, I love you”. -Valerie (V for vendetta)