I did not dare to shut an eye last night. My mind has probably placed a bet with Morpheus that I can stay sleepless until the bars of this prison are raised. The highlight of my night was the presence of an ambulance outside my house. It is a shame that blue, one of my favourite colours, is on the verge of becoming the colour of my nightmares.
The obscure realisation that overwhelmed me however was that there is nothing I am actually afraid of – despite the fact that this virus could literally kill me. Yeh…no fear at all. If there is one thing that is determining the shape of my persona during this period though is those minutes during the day when I am faced with the bareness of the objects around me. The silence and despair that has painted the streets of my neighbourhood has managed to make the plainess and nudity of everything around me appear as utterly lascivious. Yet even that lasciviousness if portrayed within the frame of deadly silence and faint outbreaks of terribly irritated yet also terrified unfortunate souls, gets neutralised completely. What is left is the colourless nudity of objects.
What is left is your inability to connect the stimuli you are presented to with any thought or emotion. What is left is your lack of desire to be stimulated that seems to override your utter need to be stimulated. It is unnerving to see a world of colour and shapes as nothing but colour and shapes. It is frightening to perceive colour as something undefinable but not careless, eye-catching but not interesting, temperature-generating but not stimulating. It is obscure to perceive shapes as lines or even dots of an outline only really created due to distance between objects and your eyes’ acceptance of the concept of different dimensions as a form of alarm in order to not bump into them.
Nevertheless there is a bright side to this day. I did decide to sleep three hours after my breakfast. The only reason why I managed to do that is because I composed a song on the piano that opposed the one I had come up with when I was on the street. I composed a song about falling in love, despite the absence of a face to accommodate the demands of the “you” I am referring to in the song. As I sang it, I did fall in love. I fell in love with that weak beam of light inside me that gets stronger only when there is a -romantic or not- ‘you’ covered by shadows. In essence I made my light side fall in love with my dark side. Besides when the love is pure, there is no intention to change the other party. When love is pure there is acceptance and an endless stream of unconditional care and warmth directed to the subject of love. So that was the game I came up with.
I slept like a tired giant and woke up with a desire to draw. I set my boundaries from the people I live with, and sat outside in the balcony. Almost obsessively I searched for the perfect playlist to listen to, yet I approached the piece of paper that I had placed on my lap as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. I approached it as if I had never touched a pencil for such a purpose before. And I drew dark pictures of death with a sprinkle of hope in sight of the idea of a resurrection; much like the one I wish will follow this dark period.
When I returned to my reality – since art makes me travel to a parallel universe – I went for a run. And here I am completing the easing and balance between my body, my mind and soul with two or three cancersticks. Fuck…it was a complete day! I cannot wait to wake up tomorrow and laugh anon at the fact that everyone looks as if they had just murdered someone and they are trying to not leave traces behind.