1
₁ I can’t begin to explain the first story that brought me here, into the middle of the desert, looking at stars.
₂ I can’t speak as clearly anymore, there’s something holding my tongue and I feel like it’s taken control ever since.
₃ I speak in dissuasions as a permanent advocate to the devil.
₄ I’m untrusting and slowly numbing against the heat of the sun I’m stuck under.
₅ Who built this desert anyway?
₆ The sun is my least favorite star in that manner.
₇ The closest star to me but somehow the least recognizable.
₈ Unlike the distant stars, its heat is a feeling. And the feeling is failing.
₉ To me it feels like the nagging red blink of a smoke detector.
I’m told the sun makes all things beautiful.
.
.
.
₁₀ There’s a certain hour of each day where you can just, and only just, look at it.
₁₁ So I tried.
₁₂ I looked right at the sun, right at it, right when its shine was its least intense.
₁₃ I didn’t see anything but I lost everything.
₁₄ I lost my memory, I lost my sight, I lost hold of reason. I felt everything slip out of my hands and into place. From that moment all I could do was feel.
₁₅ What they don’t tell you about coming to your senses is that you lose grip of reason.
The imprint on my eyelids was enough to deduce what had happened.
₁₆ I didn’t dare think.
₁₇ When you look at the sun for clarity you get what you came for.
A black dot blur eclipsing the world.
Forever.
2
₁ Now here is my nagging thought.
₂ You can forget your memories. Actively. But you can’t erase the history that created them. ₃ History is kept alive and forgotten collectively. ₄ That’s not to say that all is written in stone. In my opinion that adage is nearsighted. History repeats itself is a better adage. ₅ As opposed to history, memory is selective. Because of this we can all collectively forget and with a little time added we can erase history’s conscious existence.
₆ I think that by existing you become apart of a contract that dictates the course of history as an observer and a bearer. I need to think, and sometimes escape the collective, to keep history alive.
₇ To get rid of the weight of this contract I go out into the desert to look at the stars.
PRINT BY AKARI HELICOPTER
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