The rhythm began to beat again, even pulsing at times. I could feel myself vibrating through time, modulating just like the warbling synthesis of my space – Switched: on. Plugged: in. Un-in, off and out. Again and again. Cruising along my own private synaptic superhighway, I would sometimes have to pull myself over for speeding, but never for holding up traffic. I could hear the screams coming from the factories below – shrieks of horror and pain and submission to the mundane. But this crystal-blue gaze was fixed on neither anything nor anyone in particular, staring out the window of a high speed train to nowhere in particular. If there was one photograph that could encapsulate the essence of ‘me’, it would look something like that. You can create whatever image you like as the background – that is the true beauty of it all. My layers were infinite. I could never seem to reach the core – nor did I really want to. All my bliss was in motion, content whilst lacking a destination, but never lost… forever the reminder was present: only my physical world was shared. Disregard the boundaries – they are imposed from without, and thus do not exist. Desecrate the kitsch altar, until the candles hang from the walls. Da. Da. Conventions are for those too unimaginative to see beyond them. Again, the beyond. Some nights should never end, some planes should never land. All else was the beyond – always the beyond. Look closer. You will see…
Then blow out the candle.