Published originally in six parts on the Tumblr
“And if thou gaze long into an abyss,
the abyss will also gaze into thee.”
Sometimes you’ll get lost in each other’s eyes. There you might stay for a week to ten days, like the common cold, or a honeymoon.
The abyss isn’t a movie, it isn’t a brand, nor a tar-pit-tourist-attraction. It is like a cave, or a hole in the ground, but not entirely. It is not by safety rope that you descend into the abyss, but in the head over heels tumble that follows a hard shove. Spinning and twisting is how you enter the darkness.
-
We all get shoved. Life, in all its survival of the fittest, can be seen as one constant shoving match. The minutiae or gargantua of anxieties, the sudden trauma, or the fearful consideration of the future all can send us spinning. Most will struggle to escape, with temporary success. What the abyss holds for them is merely put off until another day. And the abyss, now having a taste for you, will only grow hungrier and more aggressive week to month. Others believe they can control their descent, deny they are being tossed about. Folly. The abyss is pitch black, it doesn’t matter which way your toes are pointing.
-
“And if thou gaze long into an abyss,
the abyss will also gaze into thee.”
Sometimes you’ll get lost in each other’s eyes. There you might stay for a week to ten days, like the common cold, or a honeymoon.
The abyss isn’t a movie, it isn’t a brand, nor a tar-pit-tourist-attraction. It is like a cave, or a hole in the ground, but not entirely. It is not by safety rope that you descend into the abyss, but in the head over heels tumble that follows a hard shove. Spinning and twisting is how you enter the darkness.
-
We all get shoved. Life, in all its survival of the fittest, can be seen as one constant shoving match. The minutiae or gargantua of anxieties, the sudden trauma, or the fearful consideration of the future all can send us spinning. Most will struggle to escape, with temporary success. What the abyss holds for them is merely put off until another day. And the abyss, now having a taste for you, will only grow hungrier and more aggressive week to month. Others believe they can control their descent, deny they are being tossed about. Folly. The abyss is pitch black, it doesn’t matter which way your toes are pointing.
-
I do not know where the abyss resides. I have seen it in my bedroom and tried to hide from it under my pillow. I have seen it while driving in my car, I have seen it while soaking in the shower. I have seen it, on occasion in the faces of others. Either side of a forced smile, it hides with the mites in wrinkles and dimples.
We humans, so spatial, so organized, have mapped out the brain. The cerebellum, the hypothalamus, and all the lobes have been assigned functions. Computers are made in our image, or perhaps our idea of ourselves are made in theirs. Every inch of grey defined; no room in the skull for the incomprehensible.
-
But I have seen the incomprehensible, perhaps you have too. The abyss exists, and sometimes it comes to you. Tentacled arms reach out menacingly, demandingly. What is it it so greedily demands? Perhaps it is material goods. You fling televisions and all-inclusive vacations at it. Cheap sugar highs and empty calories, no, it demands more. You lose time and space for others, the tentacles have grabbed control of the wheel. The abyss has transformed from black nothing into a red demon. Anything can happen now: sadness, frustration, your anger turns outward. Violence works too, red blood leaving no stain on the demon’s arms.
-
How do we deal with this abyss, before it rises out and consumes us all? If the hole in the ground can’t be avoided and you fall in, or if you walk in, or even if you dive in, what then? Well, I say explore it. It is dark in there, but there is no such thing as empty. Ignore the reputation of the abyss, make room for a second impression. For it is no alien, nor any demon inside you, those tentacles are your own. I know this is difficult. You have jobs to work, children to rear, bridal and baby showers to attend. There is little time in the Age of Busyness for self-exploration and introspection. And even less so when we believe there is no meaning. But is this so?
-
There is a why behind everything, I think. This seemingly senseless universe, full of scattered violence, and randomly distributed luck, it must have a why. All the atoms, molecules, protons and electrons that have gathered around you and among you must have a why. The abyss can’t be read on a CT scan, so studies of it are not peer-reviewed, they are personal. Hiding in that blackness, somewhere in your mind, are the reasons for everything you do. Etched in its walls is the story of your life. The effects of every interaction you’ve had with people and nature are grooves your fingers can touch, if you just reach out.
The abyss is not a dark hole looking to consume you. It is not a bottomless pit, it is an endless gift. And to think, it has been there all along.
We humans, so spatial, so organized, have mapped out the brain. The cerebellum, the hypothalamus, and all the lobes have been assigned functions. Computers are made in our image, or perhaps our idea of ourselves are made in theirs. Every inch of grey defined; no room in the skull for the incomprehensible.
-
But I have seen the incomprehensible, perhaps you have too. The abyss exists, and sometimes it comes to you. Tentacled arms reach out menacingly, demandingly. What is it it so greedily demands? Perhaps it is material goods. You fling televisions and all-inclusive vacations at it. Cheap sugar highs and empty calories, no, it demands more. You lose time and space for others, the tentacles have grabbed control of the wheel. The abyss has transformed from black nothing into a red demon. Anything can happen now: sadness, frustration, your anger turns outward. Violence works too, red blood leaving no stain on the demon’s arms.
-
How do we deal with this abyss, before it rises out and consumes us all? If the hole in the ground can’t be avoided and you fall in, or if you walk in, or even if you dive in, what then? Well, I say explore it. It is dark in there, but there is no such thing as empty. Ignore the reputation of the abyss, make room for a second impression. For it is no alien, nor any demon inside you, those tentacles are your own. I know this is difficult. You have jobs to work, children to rear, bridal and baby showers to attend. There is little time in the Age of Busyness for self-exploration and introspection. And even less so when we believe there is no meaning. But is this so?
-
There is a why behind everything, I think. This seemingly senseless universe, full of scattered violence, and randomly distributed luck, it must have a why. All the atoms, molecules, protons and electrons that have gathered around you and among you must have a why. The abyss can’t be read on a CT scan, so studies of it are not peer-reviewed, they are personal. Hiding in that blackness, somewhere in your mind, are the reasons for everything you do. Etched in its walls is the story of your life. The effects of every interaction you’ve had with people and nature are grooves your fingers can touch, if you just reach out.
The abyss is not a dark hole looking to consume you. It is not a bottomless pit, it is an endless gift. And to think, it has been there all along.