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Schroedinger's cat triumphant - A little less than a happy high
komos
komos
Schroedinger's cat triumphant
Inspired by intermitencias

Last night, when I reached the top floor of the Alewife garage, I walked over to the rail and looked back down into the station through the enormous skylight. I watched the small cadre of girl scouts pushing cookies at the base of the escalator, and the commuters rushing past them, afraid to look lest they betray that they really did have the $4.00 and were sorely tempted by the prospect of owning a box of Thin Mints. Their advance and retreat was the same flow of movement past the woman who urges us all to smile while she twirls away with her copies of Spare Change Newspaper.

This wasn't what I had come to the edge to see, however. Soon enough, I let my focus drift above this steady movement, and my eyes ran along the cracks in the glass panels that make up the half-pyramid that shelters the station floor. Each one is a stress fracture, caused by age and the sheer weight of the structure. It's just as I'm contemplating the work that would be necessary to repair the damage that it hits me. I was expecting it. It is beautiful and terrifying, and it leaves me feeling as though I have been standing at the edge of colliding universes.

My thinking is at its most visual when I perceive danger. It's not necessary that there be actual danger, just that there be possibility. Possibility begets concept, and concept breeds an array of images that rush into my thoughts with such force that I can feel quite dizzy. That night, standing at the edge and looking down from the cold dark roof at the movement below the glass, I could see myself falling. Thousands of scenarios ran through my head in a bare moment, looking less like a film montage than simply echoing the shards of glass the exploded from the panels as I fell through.

My reverie ended with an image of clutching onto one of the roof supports, terrified that I wouldn't be able to hold on because of the injuries I had suffered just falling there. I didn't want to see if I would be rescued. Feeling a touch of vertigo, I knew I was done, just as I knew that I had gleaned all the experience I could from that spot. I stepped back, closed my eyes to calm myself, and then turned to walk to my car.
12 comments or Leave a comment
Comments
mudguts From: mudguts Date: February 10th, 2006 10:19 pm (UTC) (Link)
you are my hero.
komos From: komos Date: February 10th, 2006 10:23 pm (UTC) (Link)
I never knew.
sassyinkpen From: sassyinkpen Date: February 10th, 2006 11:38 pm (UTC) (Link)
Just wow...

I don't like to stand in places like that because I don't fully trust myself not to let myself fall.
komos From: komos Date: February 11th, 2006 04:55 am (UTC) (Link)
Thanks. This was one of those rare occasions when the experience verged on poetry. Most of the time, I just end up chuckling at myself because the images I have look like something out of a really campy grue flick.

I kind of like standing on the edge. ^_^
sassyinkpen From: sassyinkpen Date: February 11th, 2006 06:03 am (UTC) (Link)
A really campy WHAT flick? I need education, here, dude :) Teach me.
komos From: komos Date: February 12th, 2006 04:33 am (UTC) (Link)
My understanding of grue is as a horror sub-genre that relies on over-the-top gore/splatter for effect. Peter Jackson's Dead Alive, where a lawn mower was strapped to the main character's chest as a zombie-chopping weapon is a good example of just how camp it can be.

I don't know that it's a genuine antecedent, but grue makes me think of severed limb and blood fountain battle damage. A still less likely comparison can be drawn with 18th Century fencing manuals. I remember the first time I saw the illustrative plates from The House of Angelo. Each represented a final, killing blow, and invariably showed a spray of blood coming from the wounded (and most often surprised-looking) opponent. Incidentally, the blood spray was the only part of the book that was actually done in color. They're quite brilliant, really.

mudguts From: mudguts Date: February 15th, 2006 12:33 am (UTC) (Link)
as in gruesome.
mudguts From: mudguts Date: February 15th, 2006 12:34 am (UTC) (Link)
sometimes also groo-some
futurenurselady From: futurenurselady Date: February 11th, 2006 02:57 am (UTC) (Link)
Wow.

I can't tell you how many times I have thought similarly.

Thank you yet again for voicing what I have not.
komos From: komos Date: February 11th, 2006 04:57 am (UTC) (Link)
I can understand that. I'm just glad that I can occasionally resonate.
riverbank From: riverbank Date: February 12th, 2006 05:16 am (UTC) (Link)
this is a great post! you had me going through it myself.
komos From: komos Date: February 12th, 2006 01:35 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thanks!
12 comments or Leave a comment