Perforations

Do any of you know what holes are? Tiny little subatomic manholes within a person. Small yet large enough to engulf the spirit of happiness in a person. The funny thing is, that when you are getting on the train called Life, no one tells you that every station actually takes you somewhat forward and somewhat backward. At the end of it you find an inertia. Action yet no real movement. That is what life is, action without movement. You begin on point A and end at the same point under the bloody assumption that you have traversed on a long long long journey.

Forget life. Back to holes. What an amusing idea. Subatomic manholes in a persons character. Take Mr.X for example. Looks normal to you. Walks to work, which is only two blocks away, in the morning. Does his job fairly well. Smiles at his co-workers all day. Expects a promotion every three years and usually gets it.Everyday he comes back home and eats dinner with his family. Shares a joke with his wife, makes love to her every alternative week and takes his kids out camping every summer. Money is alright. Life is alright. But one day Mr.X, walks to the San Francisco bridge and jumps from it to end his existence. What was that you ask? That my friends were the holes.

Normalcy is an illusion. We are all full of these manholes. Tiny perforations that are peppered across our very beings and only don't appear because they are in the OTHER realm. The one which is composed of light and air, the one we can sense but not see. The one that we can dream into but not come out of. The reality that is but cannot be substantiated. It is cemented over by our worldly physical selves. Where we appear to be in action, where we appear to be in movement, where we appear to be normal. But it is never really so.

So how come almost 80% of people never notice them. These holes. Well because they are so well cemented into their lives that they do not wish to notice the sucking splurging noises within, when our insides pull into ourselves. They ignore them. And most of them ignore them long enough to live through to their grave. But alot of people like Mr.X, suddenly get so deeply sucked that they end their journey faster than was necessary. They jump off bridges, shoot themselves in the head, get a disease and die, start wars that eliminate the thousands of people around them and who they cannot identify with. So on and so forth.

Holes. So what do we do? Well some of us acknowledge we have them. We take our little chisel hammers and break away at the cement of our physical selves and let the other side pour out of these holes into our real time lives. Not possible? Madness? I am nuts you say. Ofcourse I am nuts. Its only the nut cases, the fruitcakes, the demented that understand the holes. Because they can SEE them. Unfortunately no one understands what they are babbling on about and stuff them into madhouses because sometimes those rantings hit close to home. The mad people begin to make sense and the NORMAL people do not like it. So they put them in big cement buildings called psychiatric hospitals. Or force them into jungles or temples or wherever, where they do not need to interact with them. Where they do not have to hear those achingly irritating noises these mad people make. They do not want to see their holes.

But some of us mad hatters are a little more cunning than others. We identify with our holes and pretend we are normal, all the while busy with our chisel hammers exposing holes in other people. Silently doing our work, watching and waiting for the whole world to acknowledge that true method only lies in madness. But then again, if I were so cunning I would not be telling you about the holes would I? ...Maybe, maybe not. Who knows while you read this, me and those like me, are busy with our hammers on you right here, right now. As they say all holes lead to God. Depending which ones you open. Think about it...

Ciao Mateys,
From The Madhatter in Alice in Wonderland.