Iglesia is a serialized novel, published on Tuesdays an Saturdays at midnight ET, you can read all the previous episodes by clicking on the tab.
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And that terrible thing was being dragged away from the nipple. While he was still hungry for Life. And not just that, but being dragged away from his mother completely, dragged away from the only world he had ever known, as a human. Her heart beat had been the soundtrack to his short ‘life.’ Her warmth his constant companion. And now added to all of the indignities and traumas he had experienced in the last small highly compressed period of time he was removed from her….separated, yet again. And helplessly and fearfully and terribly…there was not a damn thing he could do about it.
Separation after separation after separation….into the womb, out of the womb, the cord cut….and now this, the well opened again underneath him and he fled, retreating from this tiny self (another separation) back to his disembodied, previously unknown observer self. His current refuge from all the terrible things of the world.
For a moment he just floated….stunned. On his ‘right’ was one reality, a reality where he was kneeling on a speeding train with a gun to his head, a reality that seemed to lead inevitably to his death. On his ‘left’ was the trauma of birth, to full of fear to contemplate. Especially when he considered, as he did now, the space in between. The rest of the images and impressions in between the two poles was his life. It was not in fact flashing before him. From this perspective he was able to access it at will. He was not sure he wanted to. If anything it was like a loop of film that kept repeating and rolling by…and he thought he could detect layers beneath this loop too. Other films beneath or behind this one. It was almost too painfully godammed vivid to relive his life like this, especially since he was nearly irresistibly drawn to relive the ‘highlights.’ And the highlights, the parts that stood out, were not the pleasant parts, the peaceful parts, but were the traumas, the drama.
His observer self was suddenly very weary of the whole exercise. It all seemed like so much….trouble! It would be wonderful, he though, to just rest for a while.
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And speaking of rest….that is what i am going to go do now!
I’ll check in later!
reminds me awful lot like one of my first acid trips when I was being chased by tigers in my basement while walking through a weird vortex with a big fire at the end tempting me to who knows what.
Rats!!! Did I just disqualify myself from running for office? Oh well… Enjoyed your latest installment.
I was just reading about your trip! …this is an interesting companion piece. Your journey mirrors his in terms of facing and giving up the fear. The highlights of your trip were also some of the most dramatic and harrowing moments. I’m just glad you made it. Get some rest now!
I love that analogy. It made me think of this passage from Illusions:
Paging Terry Gilliam….
sleep tight