Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The boss of this level



The boss is the villain you need to defeat to get to the next level in video games.
I don't really know if there's indeed a boss, levels, or I just have a very vivid imagination. The same kind of imagination that throws (seemingly) teenage boys on all fours and sexy vampire villains on top of them, and then havoc ensues. However, seeing parallels to video games and movies and books helps me make sense of reality.
Isn't that an awfully ambitious aspiration? Making sense of something presupposes that there is some kind of sense to be made. I have lots of doubts whether this reality can indeed make sense.

I have long, complex dreams. Oh, dreams I'm good at, I know how to unravel and interpret. Life, on the other hand, isn't that simple. It has no rules I am aware of.

I have two favourite hours in the day. One is very late at night, after three a.m., where everyone is asleep and I find myself looking at the sky, wishing I could make sense of my life, and the little pinpricks of light over the horizon seem to salute me or mock me, don't know which.
The other is when twilight falls and the entire palette of colours changes frequency and vibrates in altogether different notes. That is a time of endings, and the past put to rest, and death.

I don't think there is one hour of the day I am not thinking about death. I am thinking about it more than I think about sex, which under normal circumstances should be alarming. It's not. Death is always there. Sometimes we hold hands and walk together. Time, on the other hand, isn't there to hold my hand, but to crush me under his heel.
So far I've been very, very resilient. Bits and pieces of me have broken and fallen off. The rest still stands.
Have I made my peace with the world?
Have I made my peace?
No.
I can't.