Dans le confins d’une âme meurtrie le temps passe inexorablement, terriblement. Et si la fin existait, le chemin est long comme une nuit d’insomnie où les secondes sont des heures, les heures des années, les années des vies, des vies qui passent, à qui tout sens a été retiré.
Time out of time travels through the spine of the line going from me to you, never knowing exactly where to press but always going by at a speed that neither of us can grasp.
Space out of space I turn around with no one else to see than the emptiness of it all; unable to fill it.
If for just one second I could grasp the entire picture of what is around me at that precise instant - at every moment in time.
Le contour de tes yeux, la courbe de ta joue, le long silence de l’entre-battement de ton cœur, le doux son de tes cils se rencontrant, se séparant ; au milieu de tes pupilles dilatées par la fatigue d’une nuit encore trop peu ensommeillée.
Ton regard sur le monde – ton incompréhension – ton incapacité à le dire – tes tentatives – tes échecs. Mais à dire quoi exactement? Tu ne sais.
Tu vas, d’un bout à l’autre de ton esprit pour ne rencontrer que le néant – ton néant – ce néant qui réveille en toi la peur terrible de n’être jamais capable de dire, d’exprimer de quelque façon que ce soit, la palpitation sourde de ton âme dans ton cœur.
Le Balancement du nœud de la corde de ton cœur – tu n’avances ni ne sais – tu es – encore – un instant d’existence – un instant de silence – un murmure de seconde.
Silently – moving through space and time – not knowing where to go – what to do
Time out of time
Blanc – black – blind – deaf – frozen to heat – numb – fallen – broken
Unable to get back on your feet – falling – falling – failing - always deeper – into limbo
The outline of your eyes, the curve of your cheek, the long silence between the beats of your heart, the soft sound of your eyelashes meeting; separating. At the centre, your dilated pupils from yet another sleepless night. You go, from one side to the other of your mind only to find emptiness - Your own emptiness, that emptiness that awakes the terrible fear of never being able to express in any kind of way the deafening palpitation of your soul trapped within your heart. The never ending sway of the noose wrapped around your heart. you freeze neither going fro nor to. you don’t know - You are - yet again - A split second of existence, a split second of silence - the muttering of a second. You would like to say it - but you don’t know how - you wake up - and already this emptiness - this void - this desire to vomit - to scream - to cry - to die. You’re no longer able to see beauty, blind, Everything that your eyes see becomes grey, oblivious, numb.
You wander soulless, aimless, looking at the people around you and you realise you are alone.
And maybe this is where we are at. Maybe you have the feeling that this journey was a wander. It might feel aimless. But I've enjoyed being in your room, by your side. There and not there.
The year is 2020. The year is also 1953. This is also the 29th of December 1948. Or is it 2047 - This is the 3rd June 2020. I am here now. I will be there then. I was there then and there again before I was even born. The year is 5027 - The day is tomorrow - I do not know where I am, but I am here now.
Turn around - Take a look.
Can you see me? Can you hear the rumble of my voice? Can you feel my presence?
Because whether or not you can, I am here. I am there.
Where are we?
You and I, right now, where are we? In your room? In mine? I am not sure this is a room. I am not sure I ever was in a room.
But I am here, with you. You are reading me and I can see you, I can feel you. I am reaching out to you. Looking for that thread. Delicate thread - Fragile -
Silence - just a second of silence - A second of absence - I thought you were gone for ever. Get up till I embrace you.
Now, do this last thing for me please, close your eyes. Listen. Listen to the beat of your heart, the pulse of time, listen to my voice. My voice is your inner voice.
Now click here and press play, then come back here and readPerhaps you will never read this - If you don't it does not matter, you already know.
The flicker of the flame - Growing - Dying - On the balance of being and non-being.
It is or it is not. There is no question. The glass of wine falls or it does not.
It does not matter. I do not matter - I am - Always - Never.
You know me, but you don't. You have never seen me - But somehow - Deep down - I am you - Whoever you are - It does not matter.
I do not matter - I am absent - Always there, everywhere at any time -
All the voices around me are disappearing - The sound is gone - The flesh is gone - The number takes over - The machine takes over - The 'o' is gone - The web of connections builds but it is invisible, unsubstantial, inexistent. Absent.
A beat - A breath
- boom -
A second one - An echo - The beginning of life - A single note - A pulse - Deep in the guts of life - Reassuring chaos.
Is it a prison? Is it a mind? Is it the brain of a computer? Or the deepest darkest part of a black hole?
It is anyway a space that has received the last message. What is this message? What would be the last words one would send out to be remembered, to be discovered, to continue to exist through space and time?
