jugbaraha

[jugbaraha]

November 1, 2020

chapter 4

“’everything is true,’ he said ‘anything anybody has ever thought.’’’

-Philip K. Dick

             I wake up to get ready for work. I live a normal life, I live a very average life, I do not cross what I am not supposed to, what I am not told to, obedient. I am going to work. I take a train to work at a small book shop. It doesn’t pay much but I don’t complain. I should be thankful. I arrive at work, we barely get any customers, usually I just take the book, scan it, pack it, then move on to the next customer. Everything is going well, my shift is over, I am about to go home. I close up the shop and sweep a little bit a around the place, I cleaned the mirrors, wiped the shelves, swept under the shelves ---- what is this? I find a small piece of paper under the shelf, folded very neatly but It is dusty. I know I work at a book shop but I don’t read books at all, in fact, I don’t know how to read, all I know is to speak the words but not to read them, except for a few basic words, like my name, this is addressed to me, from me. How could I write a letter? I could barely read! I opened it to see what was inside, I can’t understand a thing, so I throw it away, this must be a sick joke. There was something inside the letter though, a small pendant, I’ve seen one of these before, it’s Saint Benedict’s, I do consider myself a religious man.  I keep it for myself.

    I am home. I feel a prickling in my head, but it doesn’t disturb me, it is rather comforting.

[jugbaraha]

SOMETHING

chapter 3

“You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me.”

-Edgar Allan Poe

                 Today is October 33, 2020. I am feeling well, like a torn in my head was lifted. I arrive at the venue, it is a small church I don’t believe I’ve ever seen before, I never considered myself religious so it feels odd for me to be in one of these places. The place is packed with faces but no person in sight, “Saint Padre Pio”, says one the statues, all the other saints have no label. Padre Pio had his arms wide open holding a pendant on his left hand, I take it and examine it, it has a bunch of letters but one struck me the most “I V B”. What could this mean?

 I walk about the church. Where could Annie be? She must be late.

 I decided to get close to the altar, why not? I see that there is an untouched plate of sacramental bread and a cup of wine. Drink it, eat it, consume it. I’m getting this urge to take a bite of this bread I don’t know why. As I slowly try to grab it, a bird like thing sweeps in and grabs the bread and wine, the cup and plate are empty. How did the bird do that? It didn’t look like a bird; it looked like a void sweeping in from nowhere.

“where are you, I am here. Come closer”

That voice sounded familiar. Annie? It’s coming from behind the altar, I need to get closer. “Annie! Where are you?”  

“where are you, I am here. Come closer”

“I am coming!”

                 As I near the altar, I get a cold gust of wind on my face, I stop at my feet. Something feels wrong. As I near the altar everything seems to be getting obscured, Incomprehensible, beyond my senses. I would explain what I see, but I don’t understand it myself, be aware of the limits of your being. I feel a tap on my shoulder, I turn around, everything is dark, I cannot hear it but I can feel it telling me “do not turn around”. I stand here in darkness shivering and scared of the things I cannot see, I can hear Annie’s voice echoing through the dark space.

“where are you, I am here. Come closer”

“where are you, I am here. Come closer”

“where are you, I am here. Come closer”

“where are you, I am here. Come closer”

“where are you, I am here. Come closer”

                 But I trust the darkness, “do not turn around, I will hide you”. The darkness feels familiar, like someone that has always been there with me through this whole journey, though it feels prickling in the dark, it is comforting, like I am with all the stars in the sky, I am above the world. I stay in the dark, ignoring the voice of Annie Park Toss. Annie Park Toss. Annie Park Toss. Annie Park Toss. Annie Park Toss. Annie Park Toss. Annie Park Toss. Anyparktos. It feels like forever, the wind is getting stronger, it is getting quiet, I feel like I am nonexistent. Where am I? who am I? I am ανύπαρκτος.

[jugbaraha]

IT

chapter 2

“Our efforts are undoubtedly better spent in trying to speak of this experience and in making it speak from the depths where it’s language fails, from precisely the place where words escape it , where the subject who speaks has vanished, where the spectacle topples over before an upturned eye—“ – Michel Foucault

 October 32, 2020

               Before the weekend, I went out to get some fresh clothes, I wouldn’t want to bare a bad impression, besides, this was the first time I’d ever gone out with someone, I mean I barely know her but how many times does a beautiful girl come along and asks you out? I’ll get to know her soon enough.  I headed out to the fancy part of the city through train, now that I think of it, I’ve never really been to this place, I only ever heard of it from customers at the shop, I heard the book stores where massive there. It never sounded like the place for me, I barely made a cent at the book shop, but I don’t complain, they gave me a job I should be grateful for.

                 I arrived at the fancy part of the city, it’s packed with people who have really nice clothes on, I saw a guy wearing a really nice suit, I’d like to get me one of those. I set out to look for a tailor and arrived at a less packed place at the edge of the town and found a shop named tailure, I think it’s French. The pain in my head seemed to get extremely bad, like an elf was in there poking my brain with a stick. I enter the shop and came across a short man with sun glasses on.

               “How are you doing today? Do you need anything?” the tailor asked.

               “ I’m looking for a suit that’s brown, ” I said. The place is awfully empty.

“Give me a second” the man patted around slowly at the place, he reached for a stick and then continued to go about his way and grabbed a suit.

“Here is your suit, I was told it was brown, my nephew isn’t around to assist me anymore.” The tailor said.

 “I’m sorry but this isn’t brown, I’m afraid it’s red.” I replied.

“Oh! My apologies! I’m blind, you see,” The old man takes off his black tinted sun glasses to reveal his eyes, all white as if they rotated a full 90 degrees seeing only the top of his skull. “Maybe you are able to describe brown for me that I may find it.” The blind man spoke.

“Well, it is the color of chocolates and trees and---“ The old man cut me off.

“Apologies but I’ve never seen any of those things, can you explain brown for me?”

I was surprised and wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking for, it sounded like an easy question to answer sure enough, but my words continued to falter as I continue to give him examples of things that were brown and what I thought brown felt like. He of course still had no use of the information I gave him. I stopped. The blind tailor spoke thus:

“I see that your language is limited only to the things you experience, to the things you can sense. But what will this bring you but a false sense of understanding, a false sense of objectivity, a false sense of truth. Be careful of the path you are about to take, do not take too much pride in the tools you carry for they will not save you from the things your senses cannot comprehend. Be aware of the limits of your being, be aware of what is beyond what is known to mortals.”

His eyes glistened like it contained all the stars in the sky, he is short but it felt like he was above me.

Thus spoke the blind tailor.

I went home with the red suit; the encounter was too tense, for lack of a better word, to remain.

It’s starting to hurt more and more.

[jugbaraha]

NOTHING

chapter 1

throw roses into the abyss and say: 'here is my thanks to the monster who didn't succeed in swallowing me alive. '"- Friedrich Nietzsche.

                 What is ‘nothing’? It is the lack of existence, but, really, what IS it? When I was far younger adults would tell me to simply close my eyes and I had all the explanation I needed, but as I grew older I realized that there was something present behind the tucked lids of my eyes, it was not ‘nothing’, it was darkness, darkness does not make things cease to exist, it only conceals them.  I remember the darkness engulfing me the night I lost her, to it. What it was I could never tell you, I don’t know how to tell you, I knew of its presence but ignorant of its being, I was looking at it and nothing at all. It is present and beyond comprehension, beyond meaning. It was if ‘nothing’ was hiding behind the black curtains of darkness, both working hand-in-hand to demonstrate how different they really are.

                 I lived a very average life, I did not cross what I am not supposed to, what I am not told to, obedient, completely enclosed inside the boundaries of my life like a pig in a farm soon to be slaughtered, but I wasn’t aware of that neither are pigs.  We live our days happily, presumably.  I worked at a small book shop as a cashier, there are rarely any customers and usually I just take the book, scan it, pack it, then move on to the next customer. But this time it was different, October 31, 2020, a lady looking about twenty years of age came close to me and asked: “I’m not really sure what to read, could you recommend me something?” I know I work at a book shop but I don’t read books at all, in fact, I don’t know how to read, all I know is to speak the words but not to read them.  Though I am good at math, that’s how I became a cashier.

 “My apologies, mam, but I don’t really know any books”

“That’s strange, you work at a book shop but don’t know any books?” she said.

“Again, I am awfully sorry mam. I never learned to read.” I replied.

She chuckles at me, “I’m awfully sorry that was rude of me, I like you, would you like to join me at a book club this weekend? I could teach you how to read if you’d like.”

               You’d think that I’d be insulated at her laughing at my inability to read, I am in nature a very sensitive person, but I wasn’t mad, I was even happy at the fact that I made such a beautiful person laugh, “ oh, sure!” of course I agreed instantly,  who wouldn’t? She gave me the details and I was set. Her name was Annie Park, her friends call her toss because she threw Frisbees really well. I started to get this unsettling headache, but it’s nothing.