Memory disgorges disquiet. The skein of prevarication is tangled deep. And consciousness fragments. Much of the post post modern consciousness is a tabula rasa, wherein an ontological nothingness prevails. Skepticism about institutions, structures has wiped out any hieroglyphic remnants of a recoverable past. Into this blank slate, a willed blankness, a blankness conducive with the zeitgeist, are poured sensory, corporeal, stimulating impressions that alternately inflame the senses and supercharge the brain. The inexhaustibility of information, its prodigious downpour cascades in runnels of unintelligibility down the framework of the mind. What is retained is transmuted as experience, substituted for collective memory and embalmed as a visceral response to indeterminacy.
Memory is complicit in an erasure of the collective. Too much knowledge is diffused and regathered, only to be attenuated further into pixels of opportunism, resurfaced at will. There is no longer only a self consciousness but a self conscious self consciousness. All this does not translate into self awareness nor does memory, with its forceful obliteration of a collective, conceptualize a whole within which a part exists. All at once it seems that the kaleidoscope has cleft, the mosaic shattered and each arabesque floats and whirls in state of isolation. The severing of experience from memory is then restituted by an adherence to a false collective, a false consciousness wherein not only is the true invisible but where simulacrums of generalities proliferate, burgeon and then burst.
There is a deadlock in memory, a crises of willful negation. In the sea of consciousness the wave emerges and retreats but leaves behind only a bleached imprint of its life affirming presence. The foam spills over and dissipates, memory expands the diminutive and implodes. The walls of the mind heave and surge in nothingness, the nerve ends syncopate a blank amorphous melody. There is a void, a suggestive void, a suggestible void. In this void are the possibilities of submergence and transcendence. And a gossamer line separates them.
The post post modern consciousness is poised over a brink. Below lie the precipitous, vertiginous depths, putatively impassable. But it seems that a journey is necessitated, into history, pre history, the anterior.Over the recondite quadrangles of the parthenogenetic lie immanent the opportunity for reconstitution. It is up to the mind to wrest meaning and being from non being.