The absolute peace before the bombardment

When I reach the surface my head is already full of all the nonsense I have been subjected to all the way up. There is, as the lift door opens, that beautiful moment when the landscape is blank: just a geometric construct – an infinite number of straight vertical and horizontal lines (blue) almost invisible against a bleach white background. This is my particular realitysaver and gives me genuine respite. However, recently it was used in the Encyclopaedic Entry for a concept that removes unwanted hair from embarrassing places – nostrils, earlobes, genitals, palms (monkey hands are in again) which tainted it somewhat. All too soon that second of respite is over and geometric and mental space is filling with concepts that taunt me, abuse me, attempt to befriend me, tell me what I need and want. Some take up space as firmly as buildings. Some float by, transparent, like ghosts. Some are words just flicking across my retina. Sometimes the disorientation is so bad I feel I might fall.

I must remember to look out for a new realitysaver.

 

Kyle Smith

Kyle Smith was born in Glasgow in 1967 and grew up in Paisley. He been involved in teaching and learning for most of his adult life with stints in Glasgow, Dublin, Birmingham, Aberdeen, London, and Perth. Kyle presently works at Perth College and lives near Stirling.