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Image for the poem Hypernia (not a game)

Hypernia (not a game)

As a child I used to ride my bicycle further than my official limits.  Any agreement with my parents was slightly over edged. Though I could enjoy my freedom. I over edged because I always liked balancing tightropes being an acrobatic mind. There was a long dull grey road then a side road. Some houses there which sometimes I would give eyes and faces. Once I was there on a late afternoon and a dog fiercely followed me. I fled until I decided to simply tell the dog to go. The dog looked at me seemingly stunned that I had changed my approach. I wasnt "fun to chase anymore" .....
 
On this day I have a hindsight. As a child i sometimes had those. I connected them to faces of houses.  
When they saddened I knew there was going to be something that would come up like an untouched weed growing wild I flourished in my moments of total freedom.    
   
Walking to work frequencies build up, they come in waves and are instant insights. The closer I get to the building the more heavy I sense non placid awareness. A hectic day, I notice the people are stressed due to the absence of others. I have been overhearing conversations since I am always "that fly on the wall" which happens to be there at that very time. Usually i can "turn off" that button and go forwards though today i am right there. I notice much more how often others ignore signals. How often sign language and face grimnaced language are forgotten.    
   
After a quiet time in which I cannot find peace. I open the door and feel waves flush over me.  I am the midpoint, the medium coeli. Midheaven, where in zodiacs all points collide. All seems to evolve around me. I notice many turn their head and posture towards me. Yet today i am no beacon of light,  
Tight membrane wears a sabled balm. I tear blindfolds into shreds, I speak yet no reflection returns.  
   
It is friday, all are busy with getting onwards , finishing this day. I go into the staff room, someone asks me at that very moment "hey how are you?". I say "Not fine". My answer astounds because its not what one is supposed to say. Again I am the center, midpoint. Some raise an eyebrow at me. While they indulge in swimming in wine filled visions. Discussing whites, reds and stronger potions I fail to see their magic. I fail to join their circus.  
   
For one moment I can find peace, reading headlines , a local news paper is always an abundance of delight. I dive into the images , folklore tales, images. Neutral neurons gather into seconds. Euphoric extractions breathe....  
   
Untill an explosion happens, vocal chords swallow silence. All absorbed in screaming. Footsteps outside in the hall carry the screaming further. A flashing  numbness arrises. It reminds me of those days when sad faces appeared upon the houses during bicycle rides as a child and knowing these visions could mean something. It reminds me of events.    
   
Paralalysis  
Triggers  
pause and effect  
   
Someone asks "what is happening?" Not to me but what it was that caused this person to scream.  
He is a man who lost brainfunctions due to fysical events. He is often a challenge. He used to work in a bank and has a repetition of topics which he swirls through. As soon as he says a certain sentence you know the whole story will be repeated. But he answers questions directly. If you are observant you will notice he has a great capacity of mind flow.  
   
Today he has an outburst like never before. The whole hall is vibrant with his screaming.    
His screams connect with mine. I want to join into his all absorbing sound and scream together with him. His scream enters my subconcious. It becomes someone elses scream. It becomes traumatic.  
   
I have to go before the sad faces explode in the houses and crush into chaos.    
On top of all, I seem to have forgotten my wallet. Panic opens up, No bus card, no bank card, no key!!!
All of it was placed carefully in this wallet. I had bought it to secure my items.
 I lost it I lost it.
I try to imagine the wallet, try to relapse in my mind.  
I sit in the bus, I go home and realise what the universe is telling me.  
   
"Stop! Right here,    
Listen, let go  
Rember this tightrope  
of ethereal threads  
"Now you are free"
AEMelia564
Written by AEMelia564 (Y)
Published
Author's Note
artwork "Hendaye, which road taken"
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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