The human's solar systemA Story by Mirna" Perhaps his other self and him should not be connected, perhaps it is better to see the world through different selves, one that is connected to it, and the other is not"“The moon rolls over the roof and falls behind my house, and the moon does neither of these things, I’m talking about myself.” -Allen Curnow - He often wondered whether his brain was himself, or a part of himself, or inside himself, or perhaps someone else, or something else. It seemed to him that every cell in his body was part of another person, or connected to another person, and he was just there, just floating inside it, trying to find where that connection is. When he buries himself under his blanket and tries to diffuse through the pillow to enter this other world where his body is not there - he feels more himself, or just a little happier than before. Though tonight, he couldn’t reach that place, couldn’t absorb it, or separate himself from his brain, or that brain. It (his body) was not a machine you can turn off with a button, not a cage you can break and run away from, but it was just there, it just remained glued to him and only detaches itself when it wants to, or perhaps gets ordered to. And even his thoughts were divided, some he was able to create and control and the others just came out of nothing, or from another person that he, apart from his body, cannot connect to. It made no sense, but he couldn’t make sense out of everything. He walked outside to see whether he could reach that person, perhaps find it within the heart of the wind, or something. The moon was the only thing that seemed awake, the only thing that still existed in the same reality as him. He looked at it, and then wondered why he was the only creature that couldn’t connect to that same thing, that same beginning, like how all the stars in the universe are connected. Somehow the moon was able to speak and communicate with his body or this other self in a language that he couldn’t understand. And when he looks at the moon without his body, without his brain, he sees it as nothing but a white, glowing circle floating in a dark sky. Though his body that is connected to that other self sees it as something that resembles him, something that contains the same ‘something’ inside him, and inside the whole universe. Perhaps his other self and him should not be connected, perhaps it is better to see the world through different selves, one that is connected to it, and the other is not. But when will he reach that other self, and feel connected to it like all the other creatures, is something he will never know. He walked back to his house with a body that is separate from him but a heart that still belonged to him, and with every step he questioned on which one is his true self. As his head touched the surface of the pillow once again, a tear or two began to fall down, and then he sighed. He remembered his science teacher claim ‘Humans were made to study the universe’. Though as an artist, it was more than that, it was not to study the universe, but to connect to it, to bind to it, to feel it and feel that ‘something’ that everything around him is connected to, everything, apart from his human self. And as his brain began to collect his thoughts that he had created, it sensed the order of this ‘something’ that is not him, and then isolated itself from the artist’s body. © 2014 MirnaReviews
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9 Reviews Added on June 5, 2014 Last Updated on June 6, 2014 Tags: Allen Curnow, Poetry, Poem, Writing, Creative Writing, Art, Science AuthorMirnaAbu Dhabi, Al Ain, United Arab EmiratesAboutI am a writer who is shy yet courageous, humble yet loud, wanting to break out of my shell and reach people and tell them we have the same problems, the same fears, the same hopes, and the same loves,.. more..Writing
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