Saturday, March 31, 2012

The dynamics of panic

Fear of being afraid
Of wordless catatonia
Transmutes into a panic
Mirroring kitsch parochialism

Blameless is the gaze
That ricochets from the interlocutor
Turned inward, with smug complacency
Into the nature of the other's fear

The other, uncomprehended
Overcompensates, with expostulations
To turn the rhetoric of indifference
Into a narrative of compassion

Constituted yet uncontainable
Refracted from serotonin's dysfunction
The architectonic of neurochemistry
Is untraversed and unrestrained.

Because the nature of a panic is
Within the interstices of rationality
An inexplicable demonstrative unreason
Akin, representing insanity

Enclosed within clinical jargon
It lodges firmly in the expert's mind
Turning a cornucopic human complexity
Into a symptomatic word.

Monday, March 26, 2012

THE MYTHOLOGY OF LOVE OF LIKE

Street lights intersected with car headlamps. The city was dappled with light. The conflicting images that this conjunction produced in me was stiflingly discomfiting. Sitting by the roadside cafe i sat waiting for him, the indefinable other who had mysteriously becomes for me, an extension of my own self. I knew he would be late, would perhaps abdicate responsibility yet a leap of faith propelled me further through time, made it possible to navigate its ongoing progression because i was in love.

The city proliferates with images of desire and is traversed by people who are prompted in the course of things by the fulfillment of what they desire. The desire which assailed me, suffused my being with luminous possibilities was my desire for him which essentially reduplicated my desire for myself since what i desired was self seeking of which he was only the conduit. Yet i created him as a separate reality, with an incontrovertible presence, defying projection, sanctifying selfhood. In short i endowed him with exterior cores, palpable yet indeterminate because which the fleshly manifestation was singular its co option into my life was uncertain perhaps exacerbated by the fact of his separateness.

When i lust for him, when i imagine my tongue exploring the crenellations of his lips, my mouth seeking reciprocity, my senses inflamed, my points of desire engorged with completion, i loathe myself for thus depending on the other for transcendence. And this is not simply because he is the interstices where my love for self and a love for something beyond converge but also because it brings into existence a cornucopia of conflicting images that threaten to disrupt my precarious equilibrium and shatter my unequivocality.

Of course, the social fabric undermines such a love as mine. Loving him is like looking in the mirror, my own self looks back at me, my contours reduplicate, my fissures, crevices reflect back the possibility of self realization that can only be attained by a physical presence similar to mine. At times, he becomes a simulacra and at other times i myself become shadowy and indistinct. Transgression seems enticing yet its very existence undermines itself. For what is being transgressed is itself redundant.

So i am overwhelmed by cavalcade of sensations because the sense of embattlement is not between me and him but between me and myself. Iridescent possibilities seem to offer a certain transcendence and an awareness that self awareness isn't far off affirms identity.Which is why when i look in the mirror his rictus of smile leers back at me, both exciting and terrifying.