echolocation

It was only ever a very small step away.

Roll through the kinesthetics until you lose your balance, like you always do. It’s so hard to stand on two feet when the ground is fluid. Bunny trails and rabbit holes lead to roughly the same place and you’d do just about anything to fall all the way down. You find yourself, quite literally, in a world of your own making, and there isn’t a way out that you can see.

You keep on coming back to the way that things should be, like a dog with a tennis ball, but that wasn’t what this was ever about. Perhaps it would be easier if you could leave your skin and float in a different dimension, one where you were only aware of the way things sound. But you know that isn’t how life works, and you’re trapped in a visual reality. The way you see life becomes a mirror — one that is dark on the other side. Everything bounces off of the sounds, comes back to your brain, tells you what to see.

Strings rumble through your consciousness like thunder. Is this a dream?

Make a sound. Call out to the shadow of what may or may not be inspiration. What comes back to you? Can you hear it?

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