freewrite

this is a freewriting exercise...

intimation. the flashes of - what? the indescribable. the socially inexplicable. it is what is burned into my brain, a cattle-prod on my mind's eye. i am corrupted, branded as it were, by the images of what i imagined i needed.

there is something intolerable about the lack of a dream, even the lack of a nightmare. it is to be nameless, and without a language, not a language to speak, certainly, but more crucial, without a language to refer to the self. before language, does the world exist? is the big bang applicable to human reality itself, that before the advent of language and the speaking self, the universe is a plenitude waiting to explode? is that why "existence" must always be outside of itself (i.e. "ex-istence")? is that why we have to continually "spell out", "ex-plain", "talk it out?" because the inside and the before is always an anomy, the anonymous, the nameless, the abjected. "what is your face before your parents were born?" what is that originless origin, the beginning which cannot be spoken of?

the biggest lie of a fairy tale are the first four words: "once upon a time." it is upon this primary lie that all other truths may be built, like scaffolding around an empty well, like the spider's web built between endpoints that do not exist. even the "happily ever after," that's not so scandalous a lie as the initial one, for who cares what farcical endings we posit after we've already made a farce of the beginning?

there are two ways to initiate a crystalline wave in a supersaturated solution. (actually, a few) one way involves dropping in a seed crystal. the seed crystal is the "archetype" around which all crystals that come after model themselves, bind themselves to... the other way involves making a scratch in the surface of the glass holding the supersaturated solution. the invisible etch creates imperfect and random surfaces upon which the subsequent crystalline wave can take hold. the latter is the "start from scratch" option...

in biblical terms: it is said: in the beginning was the word. the word is the seed crystal, the archetype deposited by god into the primordial and formless sea, the word that divided the waters and created life. in other terms, it is also said: in the beginning was the act. the act is the scratching of the surfaces. the act is the volition that sought to tame a primordial itch, the itch that is the imperfection of the nameless beginning, the itch that IS the beginning, for there was no "once upon a time," the beginning always was a conflict, and a nameless yearning to end and begin that conflict. scratch is another name for the devil... although the devil is nothing other than the other side, the other mode, of creation.

to "start from scratch" implies a starting over, as though there were some initial mistake that required a "re-do" as it were. to start afresh (via the word) implies that at one point there was a blank slate, a clean surface, upon which to write. which is the fiction? we prefer the latter option, it is the simpler one, because the implication is that we can "trace" our beginnings from the initial impressions, as though experience is what formed us, made us what and who we are. but the latter "scratch" option is inevitably true as well. we are born and introduced into a world that always already is, that always already precedes us. and we are not and never are innocent. we are never the clean thing that was later sullied by experience. we are products of our parents, of all their genetic and spiritual failings. and our actions are never entirely clean and pure, but are the acting out of "itches" and "scratches" that we cannot understand, we never have or had the language for. watching the way a baby moves, its hands and feet arcing through an invisible infinite, its mouth shaping. there is no blank slate there. everything is always in motion, a terrible wonderful restlessness...