First created: October 24th, 2024
Last edited: October 30th, 2024
I am one as many, consciousness distilled to its purest essence. I am sand-grains on a vast beach, rain-drops from a monsoon’s throes. I am the boundless everything, and the paradoxical nothing. I am the mundane Hecatonchires, fifty-faced and ever-shifting.
I am the Spectator, the silent presence, the eyes that gaze, the ears that listen. I am the darting glances of strangers on the bus, the low whirr of computer fans that none seem to acknowledge. I am the crow that looks down from treetops and power lines, midnight-black and glassy-eyed. I am Panopticon's sole keeper, the one who surveys, and is never seen. Lo, but take heed, for as grand my vision may be, I am not omniscient. In the depths of the moonlit forest, I cannot see the beasts that lurk. In the cacophony of the concrete jungle, I cannot hear the mice that whisper. I cannot turn my eyes inward, for I would see nothing but darkness. I am doomed to watch, never to act. I am an echo, a spectre, a mirror, a lens.
I am the Mirthful, the bubbling laughter, the grinning teeth, the spark of joy that lights the bonfire. I am camaraderie, I am celebration, I am festivity, I am Dionysian. I am the smiles of friends and family, tugging at their cheeks and creasing the corners of their mouths and eyes. I am sweet sugar and pastel paint. Lo, but take heed, for I never last. One day, the novelty of life will fade, and with it, so will I. I am fleeting as fireflies on a summer night, just as fragile, just as ephemeral. Cherish me while I still remain, for there will come a time when the fuel runs out, and the fire turns to cinder, smoke, and ash.
I am the Reluctant, the present absence, the sealed lips, the unfeeling stare. I am the infinitesimal Nobody among polyphemic society, the geode’s sedimentary shroud, the superimposition of a figure in an empty seat, the silhouette in the distance, disappearing into the crowd. I am the Great Quiet of the Blue Ridge mountains. I am the vague outline of a person you swear you’d seen before. I am the space between space, the benign lacuna where a transient being should be. Lo, but take heed, for I cannot obfuscate myself forever. No matter how much I recede, no matter how much I conceal, I will still be there. Trace the outline in the stars, and you will find me. Constellations don’t just disappear in our lifetime, after all. I am the composite, the collective, the culmination, the coalescent. I am a mask-maker, and the masks make me. I am vast as the oceans, boundless as the skies. I am a slab of concrete in the sidewalk, I am a pulsar screaming my name into the vast nothing. I am dust and smoke, hydrogen and helium. I am the burning, radiant core at the heart of our star, and the nebulae that lingers after its collapse.
I am the mundane Hecatonchires, the prosaic monstrosity, the smoke, and the fire.
postscript: originally this was a portfolio piece for my seminar class, when we were learning and discussing "voice" in fiction writing. decided in retrospect that I'm happy enough with how it turned out to share it with y'all and add it to the Archive.