Over and over, rolling down the hall, into the stairway, out the door, passed my bike, through the alleyway, down the road, up the street, and at your doorstep, and it ends. I can't stop.
The jungle only existed in my mind but yet when I was awake I was seeing it, right there in front of my conscious eyes you and the everything I knew of you were just far enough to not be reached but close enough to smell. You called me George. George, no one calls me by that? You looked the same as in my dreams, with tropical eyes; the green coral reefs, the smile, the dark hair; as wavy as the waters of an estuary. I spoke and you spoke back, I moved my arm and my hand reached towards yours, and I felt your hand for the very first time, it felt the same too. My heart felt like a small bean rumbling around in the cavity of my chest; that magic bean growing and growing until I could not, I can't stop.
I fell to the ground, with my hand still anchored to yours. You never let go, and you even pulled me up. I felt lightheaded, I was breathing heavily, holding myself together. What was this, what was going on? You were a mystery, you didn't exist here, how could you? My eyes were fixed; they were telling me the truth, but I still didn't believe. I was twenty-two years into believing you were just something I could imagine, that my dreams were dreams; far from reality. But seeing you there, I didn't know what was real. My eyes turned glassy then tears formed, I didn't want to blink, thinking once they open again you'd disappear like some sort of magic trick.
There could never be an answer. There just was. And always. This moment. These lives. And all of it, to be real as the pain of it not being real, and how we tried to believe, but it wasn't our choice to believe or not, for something to be real. It just was. I can't stop thinking you'll disappear after I blink, after I believe in this is all happening, right here and right now. How can you disappear when I disappear with you.
Now for art talk...I was thinking of renaming this series to Helvetica on Glass. And if you were interested in my artistic references, here they are:
Lisa Hecht, Becky Comber, Virginia Mak, Kotama Bouabane, Danielle Bleackley, Uta Barth, and Roland Barthes (theoretical reference).