Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Catharsis: II

Raindrops rippled patterns upon transient pools all around me, while veins of liquid diamonds flowered upon any and all panes and planes - brief flowerbeds of metal, wood, and glass embracing existence while they can.
The sun will shine, but not soon. 
Not now.

My steps were light, and my heart, calm. The world was grey all around. In a strange way, my rhythm, though deviant, wove in harmony with my grey surround. I was not untroubled, rather, I was aware of what loomed ahead but I did not despair. Purpose was my companion then, and completed what was a triad of myself, my wavering shadow below, and purpose looming above.


Stone-faced guards greeted me mechanically as I entered the gates of the Institution, the manner without feeling. They reminded me of clockworks. Were they merely gyres within the system before the eyes of the Institution? What does that make of me? An errant breeze blew past, breaking the monotony of the rain, and spirited the thought away as it died.

I like long walks either alone or with a group, but I find greater peace of mind during strolls alone under the moon and the stars and in rides homeward or nowhere bound. I love walking, but I chose not to then. I was in need of haste and could not afford to tarry. My cloak of calm wavered during the ride towards my intended stage. It frayed itself when I arrived.

Have you ever experienced having to look your weaknesses in the eye? Have you ever been surrounded by gargantuan monsters of your insecurity? Have you ever had your patience and your control strained past breaking point? Have you felt the outbreak of emotions too raw to put to words?

I have.

They all convene and conspire at your weakest - they are your final trials on the journey towards admitting you were wrong. They serve to plant the most potent seeds of doubt during that one moment when you muster the courage to let go of pride and ask for redemption.

For forgiveness.

For a second chance.

They are the harbingers of the final and greatest dark night of your soul - the blackest test that can wholly make or break you.


All around me was a black void. The darkness was at rest, but its silent threat of utterly devouring me did not go unnoticed. This was my stage. The pitch was young  - the light went out just moments ago, but the memory tethered on the edge of forgetfulness. I can vaguely make out the curtain at arm's reach before me. 

As before, I was rehearsing lines as scenes repeated like a perverse creed in my mind, when something shifted. 

It came from within me.

A hand took off my mask from without. It was dark, but I saw him. I saw me. 

He smiled.

Rather, I smiled. It was the strangest thing.


"Well, what?"

He was fingering the mask. I noticed it shone feebly in the dark, but its light only served to dim the hand holding it, as well as the fingers that caressed it. I smirked. So the light is as false as the source.

"Well, what?"

I repeated my answer. No, my question. Whichever.

"You know what I mean."

My self was toying with me. What else is new?

"I suppose you know I prefer answers when I ask for them. Are you not weary of having to interpret signs? Do you not tire of reading actions as words? I am spent. I do not wish to see phantoms anymore. I want truth, for a change."

"You talk much."

My own eyes bore into mine. You always get bloody wordy, they told me.

I could not fight the urge to explain myself. Again.

"You know all too well how that is my way of making up for my lack of physical...expression."

Smirks directed at you can be very infuriating when it comes from yourself.

"This won't get us anywhere."

I closed my eyes and took a calming breath. It would be time soon.

I opened my eyes to find myself too close. Dangerously close.

Twin hearts pounded as one. The memory of sound came rushing back to me.

"If you want the truth, don't you think it's only fair to give it, too, when the moment calls for it?"

There is a perverse mirth that can be gleaned when our selves lecture us.

"Damn you."

I managed a grin as I continued.

"But I guess you're right."

Oft is it prudent to listen to ourselves.

"Good. Sometimes I tire of having to remind you of the obvious."

"Shut up."

"I doubt you still have need of this."

He stretched out his right arm and let go of the mask. In a pocket of space sundered from the world and from time, we watched its slow fall. For all its intricacies and vain designs, it was very brittle. It shattered into countless shards, which glimmered and tore the fabric of the void that swathed me. The curtain before me fell, the darkness churned and twisted and slowly extinguished itself. The stage failed and utterly crumbled as surely as my phantoms would have. All but I was lost to oblivion.

"This is much better, don't you think?"

So I could make a face that sardonic, I thought as I watched him.

"I guess 'thank you's' are in order?"

His grin got wider. Sometimes, I hated and loved myself at the same time

"Tch. Still proud, I see."

I glowered.

I lost my composure briefly as he grabbed my shoulders and appraised me.

"I guess that pride's a part of being you. Of being us. But keep that in check always."

And he moved in as if to kiss me with a suddenness that surprised me.

Now that was awkward.


He said that when he got close and breathed into me as he faded away.

We never kissed - that would've been too narcissistic. But two halves of my self were reconciled then.


"Well, Christopher?"

I blinked.


"I haven't seen you in a while but I will accept you into my class, provided that you must never be absent again. Reasons will not be accepted, regardless of their validity. Note that I did not ask you your reasons for being gone too long - I tire of long discussions which may potentially involve excuses."

She said this with an all-too-knowing ghost of a smile.

"Will you abide by this condition?"

"Of course, Ma'am. Thank you, really."

"That's settled, then. See you in class."


The grey of the world was fading as the sunbeams that pierced the clouds waxed. Patterns rippled on the pools all around me. A breeze brushed my face softly. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I opened them and saw my smile reflected on a puddle close by.



  1. this is trippy. pardon if i sound generic but that's the only thing i can think of to describe this.

  2. That's okay! I already had a twist in mind when I started with Catharsis: I, but somehow the intended twist got twisted some more and ended up this way. Writing this was fun! I do hope it does come across as something too emo! :D

    (I do hope that the degree of its 'trippiness' leans towards the positive side of the spectrum)

  3. but of course! you can do no wrong! lol