Feel

It is there, I am conscious of it, as conscious as I have never been in my whole life. It is outside myself, near me, tangent but yet Other, different. At the same time I am aware that it is all inside me, nothing has ever been so within me, of me.  The effect – monstrous and unimaginable.  I am perfectly still, letting it invade me, spread over me like a disease, a long-feared but tempting disease.  It burns, like a disease, like innumerable malignant corpuscles  taking over the healthy system. But then it feels numb, as numb as a piece of wood, harmless and unequivocally present. I dare not move, I subside; I let it come over me, overcoming me. I was longing for this all of my life, and now I do not know how to react. Maybe this is precisely the point – no reaction, no rationally, mind-processed answer to it. Because if I think of it, I become ashamed and I fear disapproval and even contempt. NO, all this is wiped clean, I just let it BE.  It scars me, intentionally cruel. It is my fault, I dare not break free, I let it own me. In the end, I will bear the consequences as others victoriously bear their golden medals. My own personal victory. Unbearable afterwards will be the break-up, the separation. I have quickly absorbed it and delighted in it, but it will inevitably end.
End – but not in me.
~
The play ended in a roar of applause. The spectators rose to praise the actors and the playwright. It was then when she moved her foot, and our knees came apart. The emptiness IT left behind … But as she stood up I stood up together with her, searching in the beating of my palms the redemption of numbness.