(no subject)
McEscher and a Rubick's Cube
By Anah Rose
01/10/08
"Sometimes when you walk long enough down a black corridor in the labyrinth of your mind you find a window where you pass something that hints at a memory.
It hints at a person you once were. A person that perhaps someone met. Or a person you had to hide from the great pain.
Then you continue to walk, that long narrow path, everything sprinkled with a fine aray of pearl glitter, the sparkles perhaps ignite another memory somewhere deep inside.
It never seems to be complete, something always missing, the keys scattered along a broken glass infested pool, deep and daring and something you can not get to thus they will ever remain locked.
Every shape a different explination, a different story, nothing ever working together, nothing ever helping.
A broken mind torn, twisted, locked in a million different ways. A Rubick's Cube, with no genius to solve. A child's toy, threatning, cruel, and unsolvable.
It can take years to solve that simple box, twisting, turning, the sound of plastic against plastic, thrown against the wall, dropped down the stairs, chased across a road. Hit by a car. No one seems to know the way to put my mind back together.
Twisting, turning, grinding forever through the decades, broken, leaking, hurting, destroyed. Like piecing together that shattered picture of time.
Anyone for a game of Rubick's Cube while you sojourn through one of McEsher's Labyrinths?"