The Land of the Blind

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I don’t know you.  What you look like is a curiosity, but immaterial to the space you occupy in my mind.  When we connect via written word and self expression, I now, know something of the most intimate nature about you.  An image of you. A beautiful rose or a dark secret that’s a part of you.  Your dreams.  Your hopes.  Your shortcomings.  Your frailties.  All released to the heavens when you release that kite. A human being having a very human experience.

I don’t know you, know you, but I do know some hidden thoughts that you’ve shared through your pen name. Many of these freed thoughts striking a chord within me. The ones that catch me the most are posts that begin with, “I don’t know if anyone will read this or if you stumble across this…”  Nothing but a truly genuine emotion metaphorically penned to paper; scribbled on the wall. Written on the wall to let those who pass by know that you too were here. An emotional, thoughtful, careless, reckless, moody, imaginative, sensual, needy, dependent, virtuous, ethical, and playful human being like all human beings.   I see the light in the words and I reach out a hand simply to say, “I see you.”  I see your light.

Lights that are set off like fireworks in the night sky.  Fireworks streaming dendrites connecting and forming new memories and shared ideals and ideas with no regard to race, gender, sexual orientation, age, etc. Just a million voices all speaking to simply be heard – be heard in a world of increasing dissolution – a world giving way to the simulacra.. While at the level of one plus one equaling two – another human being understanding or being exposed to another human being’s rather human sentiment – finding a voice and ear and body within the simulation.

In the land of the blind, all thoughts and emotions are created equal. In a sense we’ve already arrived at technological transcendence with each mind reaching out to one another in a world built on top of the world.

I see you.  I hear you.

By malakhai jones
(C) copyright 2016

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24 Comments

  5. Through our words, we acknowledge our true selves. Every story we share, every poem we write, we reveal a tiny piece of our soul. Some pick up on that, some don’t. I think it takes a person who loves the written word to see beneath the surface…read between the lines.
    Writers just “know”.
    An insightful post, M, and beautifully offered up.

  9. Sometimes I’m embarrassed at how I crave attention in my writing. But then after some meditation I am comforted by the fact that we are all that way, and all one on the same fabric of life. Or all brain synapses waiting to be caught. It’s really beautiful when you look at it like that; like perfect harmony between the masculine and the feminine forces.

    1. Wow! Trinity you have an excellent way of expressing yourself. Thank you! And my apologies for getting lazy with your pen name. I’m assuming it stands for the “good news about the holy trinity.” Hence me shortening things and simply calling you Trinity. I guess I could’ve gone with GI which would’ve been even shorter. 🙂