This is our journey thread. To chart who we are and where we are. It will contain those parts of our paper diary that could possibly benefit from an outside pair of eyes, but not necessarily. You are welcome to comment if you wish.
The Uncharted.
Since our awakening as a system we have been adament that there is not an inside world. That all we have when we are not awake is bad memories. And this is how it has been for the past year. But now I know that this is a lie.
That coming to the front has given us an inside amnesia cut us off from our inside past. Why we were not allowed to remember our inside lives I don't know. How could I have forgotten mine? Perhaps if I had remembered I wouldn't have helped the system, perhaps I would have resented them enough to sabotage things. Perhaps I am only remembering inside now because I have enough invested in the outside world to want to keep the system going.
Having read a few articles about making an inside world I thought tonight I'd have a try. I focused on a picture of a rock formation that has crept up in my art on and off for years though I have never seen it. A rock that T had informed me actually existed and that Peter had visited in real life. A thing therefor we could both visualise. (for rule #1 in the guide to making worlds states - agree on the form of your safe space before starting bigger worlds. Use something at least 2 of you know intermately.) no sooner had I thought of the rock when I was there in our head space, peter was siting under it asking why I had shrunk his rock.
I climbed to the top just to feel the thing I had drawn all these years. The sandstone was rough. I had never know what type of rock this rock had been - the texture was supplied by peter and it was a joy to climb. From the top I could see out and was shocked to see other worlds already in existance. A woodland that I knew somehow belonged to Elspeth. A sea, tempestuous and grey with a spit reaching out into its depths. A patch of quicksand that had a shadow over it that reached right round the rock and touched the fringes of Elspeth's woodland. In the shadow were deeper shadows - as if seeing my gaze peter told me that they were "the bad things what I got to look at when I awake inside" .
I wondered if there was any place for me. Close to the front was a patch that seemed empty so I took a walk. Only it wasn't empty, the click of my heals told me the floor was tiled the white gleam wasn't absence but a light, unbearable. As my eyes adjusted I saw Greek columns and upon each column a mirror - broken. How could I have forgotten?
This was my prison.
All those years of captivity. Watching life through panes of glass that when I tried to reach out shattered to reveal broken mirrors. My anger wasted, absorbed by 1000 tiny shards, never reaching the real world, always watching. Every mirror I turned to showed just a flash of the rage that broke it.
What to do about this place? It is my own but it is not my construction. It is the prison that Grace placed upon me. A monument to my suppresion, my taj mahal. It contains a decades Rage - nothing more.
Do I tare it down in the hope that something remains of what I had before?
what if I find nothing?
Should I instead claim it as my own and remake it, build something upon those columns? but what of the rage trapped in here? A few paces was all it took to release an echo of it. If I build upon my old prison will the rage seep through like mould?
I am not that person anymore. I am more than the anger that sustained me through those years of my suppression.
Perhaps like peter I should live at the rock and hope I do not have to gaze upon this place to often. But then I shall never heal. Perhaps my early memories are elsewhere? No if they are not under my prison then they are deeper in. I must confront my rage either way.
But how? How to trespass upon this place without being over run by old emotions.
Mo