The adjective

CPThe Adjective

#fiction, #fluidity

There has been a commotion in the streets all day long, and a large area has been completely closed off.

As soon as I get to the nearest point allowed, a beam of light, much brighter than the sunlight, blinds my view. As I get closer, the brightness turns into something that is hard to describe. As a matter of fact, I am not able to find even one word that can get close to the experience.

By six o’clock we are about fifty people surrounding ‘it’. Most of us are just observing, mesmerised, whilst a few others are discussing quite vividly its behaviours and qualities. I am looking at the ‘thing’ and suddenly a strange sensation overwhelms me. As I am staring at ‘it’ I literally see myself staring at my thoughts. These are a combination of the thoughts that I am thinking right now, as well as parts of my memories, all combined in a fluid consistency that resembles the movement of the ‘thing’’s surface. It feels as if ‘it’ mirrors mental states in a way that I have not experienced before. In that state of mind there is also clarity.

I realise soon that there is something the ‘thing’ reacts to consistently, though I am not yet able to identify what it is reacting to. When it does, it becomes slightly more solid in specific areas. These solid parts turn into clearer shapes. Then they acquire daily qualities, such as the ‘big’ area in the upper left side. Or the ‘beautiful’ area, or the ‘ugly’ part. There doesn’t seem to be a relationship between these appearances, although they all share the same treat. They lose the luminous quality of the original fluid consistency, as the ‘thing’ becomes more recognisable.

Suddenly a realisation strikes me. One of the solidifications seems to take place in consonance with the conversation between two people. They are arguing, contradicting each other’s points of view on the origin, or even the purpose of the ‘thing’’s presence. Through their argumentations and definitions something of the ‘thing’s’ original state is being transmuted, but no-one else seems to notice.

The objectification takes place at the same time as my mind is immersed in this mimetic trance. When a part of the substance becomes more material, my mind too experiences a punctuation. It is in this ‘punctuation’ that their argumentations and definitions

become a ‘moulding space’. They literally give shape to it, and in this shaping the ‘thing’ loses something of what it possessed before. It is this first ‘punctuation’ that brings my attention to it, and when it happens a second time I look around to realise I am the only one noticing it.

I perceive, as well, that there is something about this process of individuation that introduces a strange sense of calm. There is a feeling of self referentiality in the thoughts that are being activated inside me, they feel familiar. There is also a sense of control with which one can induce direction to the thoughts. There is a sense of potentiality, of combinations that can become entities on their own, to be experienced in that state of observation. There is a sense of humbleness of what I can not know outside of myself, and the realisation that what I am noticing might be only my experience.

As the night falls, suddenly the ‘thing’ vanishes in the same way it appeared, unrequested. All those gathered look at one another with expressions of great surprise and exclaim loudly how they have never seen something quite like this before. Amidst their need for exteriorisation and chattiness about what just happened, I feel no urge to speak. I gather all the sensations still contained in my body and stare at my thoughts once more, making sure that for a while I can still avoid punctuation.