...part 4 of my surrealist writings "The P.I. Letters" An excerpt from "THE P.I. LETTERS" by OnnaMove (c) Jeanna Voellmer 2003-2013 Chapter II -Without Boundaries- ...positioned between two worlds, imitating the crashing together of symbols. The crescendo of their collide shutters over me in these days. If only I had been born a turtle, but life offers no such comfort for me. The luring glances that fell upon me in my youth have now shifted into something new and different—they have become hesitant and awkward—challenging me to understand the peculiarity of these moments. Have the years really taken that much from me? I find myself wanting to know things that are too far from my reach—preventing me from understanding the patterns of thought that intrigue the unconscious part of my existence. It has become a tug-a-war of sorts—asking more of life than I am told is there. It is trademarked by the building of a new currency for thought ...the creation of a new language of understanding without boundaries and limits placed on it. Up till now, these boundaries have flooded the marketplace of my thoughts—placing value based on the arbitrary constructs of truth established by the history of few within hardly a single dent in time. Having no parameters or boundaries is a challenging concept to perceive and in the end is unattainable. Boundaries are always lurking within the equation of new thought because new thought is always born from old thought. How is it possible to know something in an unlimiting and truly intimate way as if to be the very thing itself? I am constrained by the indoctrination of my youth. But do things really exist as I have been told? This intrigue on my part did not start with my love for you, but instead began with my doubts—doubts that you are really as you appear. Upon our arrival, we are all provided with the story of who we are, where we came from and what the truths of our world are. The inconsistency; however, lies within the variation of these stories and the long history of arguments that plague our common experiences. The groundwork laid for the validity of these arguments is convoluted by the fact that, though we all appear to be looking at the same thing, there are more interpretations than there are concrete truths. This only confirms my suspicion that things are not as I have been led to believe. The first time we touched brought a moment of decay to my world that burned through my flesh before we were properly introduced. I had, of course, been warned of your wanting ways, but I refused to listen. You first touched me in the garden when I was not looking for you. It kills me to not be able to touch you now, but as with all forbidden love affairs I am prevented from knowing you at the depths of your thoughts. I think this is because our true nature is kept even from ourselves. In an effort to not see the exterior or inward boundaries of this desire to know you—something else becomes apparent. And without jumping to conclusions too hastily in a way that fits within the parameters of my indoctrination, but instead trying to rid my mind of the preconceived notions of what I have been taught about you ...only here have I come to know you in a different way. And when I say that I love you—it is not as you might think—I see you differently than others see you... this from the inside of all my senses. Your thoughts have penetrated the very depths of my soul and chained my heart to all that others could not imagine or understand. I am sure it is you! And this I know to be true... If I could just let go—you would penetrate farther and deeper into all that I was not meant to know. As a little girl, I would stare out across the landscape being sure to make eye contact with all that crossed my path—and in doing so—I experienced something else... I thought I might just float away. It was like a bullet passing through my body, but with no entry point and no exit wound... but it happened just the same. The more I experienced this phenomenon, the more I became aware that this happens everywhere. It scared me so—later in my youth, until... I met you. Now, when I walk these same paths I ever so quietly lift my skirt just to feel the lure and caress of your touch. Do you think that is what love is—a bullet passing through our senses that has no entry point and no exit wound... a moment of concentrated thought—constricting and then freeing the boundaries of our soul? But then why does it so often go wrong? Why do we insist on placing boundaries where there were previously none? Why do we construct our reality into such tiny little blocks of definable limits? ...closing ourselves off to the possibilities. My desire to know you is the desire to understand this connection—to know things not just beyond their surface qualities but beyond the limits of my contract. In all these years I cannot recall the moment that I signed this contract and therefore I officially renounce the limits placed on me by laws of its court.
Posted on: Wed, 18 Sep 2013 19:32:04 +0000
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