RANDOM STREAMS OF CONSCIOUSNESS

22/10/2025

One

I step from the bus stop.

My eyes are forced shut by the weakened sunrays. I don't comprehend where I stand. That is a lie, I do. I really do. Though my vision is far too blurry. Thing is, the narrator is a prickly bastard; longing for flesh, he does not allow my consciousness to stand in a fine, straight line. I was conceived gifted with the analeptic stream of the timeline.

I am immediately thrown back, in a flash, to where I was standing six years ago. This very campus. The school field trip. The liars in robes promised me the cure-it-all medicine, time, would do its magic. The grief I shouldered then feels just as real now. Everything I step on doesn't belong to me. My arms are far too short. I look at my colleagues, mouth zipped shut, and observe. This is all I know. All I know is to observe.

That is all I know. I know that is also a lie, and, needless to say, that is all I know. Sometimes, I have the sickening realization that, maybe, I've just gotten too good at pretending I know anything besides observing. So, I do what I know I'm truly good at. I observe my colleagues. Their faces are distinctly blurry. I listen. I am a good listener. I've always had to be.

The Speaker feels distinct. I am good listener, as I always listen to myself, too. And the I in me speaks a bunch, so I've got to listen carefully. I don't think I speak much, though, truly. Aren't we all like that? A dear friend of mine once told me so. I've gotten too good at this. I wish I haven't.

Six years back, I expected to be dissoluted into nothingness by now. I have since learned that we do not dissociate from our bodies. I am still here, on her body, the I in me, the younger me, the older me, the Speaker, the Observer. Time isn't properly alligned.

I stare at her corner on the sofa. Only death removes the entity from the realm of the timeline. I see nothing. I see nothing. I see nothing.

I look at his face and I see it in fog. Blurry, doubling. I listen. I am content listening.

I listen. I observe. I speak.