He kept finding himself trapped inside this maze of his own making. It was constructed from memories, fragments of stories and imagined events. In his head these building blocks had combined and interlocked until they surrounded him without offering him any way out.
He had tried to escape many times. He had tried to follow one line of blocks from its start to its conclusion, expecting to be taken through a coherent storyline from beginning to end, and from the end to an exit. But the blocks rearranged themselves even as he followed them. Sometimes the same block presented itself over and over again. Or junctions sprang up where many possible storylines opened themselves up for him to choose from. Whichever line he followed, he kept finding himself trapped inside this maze of his own making.
He had tried jumping blindly from block to block, from memory to half-forgotten image, in the hope that these random moves would serendipitously lead him to an unguarded opening, a forgotten door or a window to a world outside. But every door swung round to push him back inside. Every window turned out to be a mirror endlessly reflecting the jumbled blocks of his own fragmented story. And he kept finding himself trapped inside this maze of his own making.
He had even tried stopping altogether. He stopped following stories. He pushed every image or memory out of his mind before he could become consciously aware of its content. He forced himself into the darkness of not thinking, not sensing, no awareness. But in the midst of this darkness he couldn’t help noticing shimmers of light. A spark would shine, faintly but clearly. If he managed to ignore it, another one would follow, and another. They formed sequences, patterns and rhythms. They created forms out of synchronous moves. They danced until he couldn’t help but pay attention. And his attention was all they needed to lead him back from the void into his mind’s confusion. And he kept finding himself trapped inside this maze of his own making.
He was literally trapped.
He was trapped, literally.
And then he saw it. Between the a and the y. Two crowbar shaped ls he could pry loose from their position. And an r between the t and a to put where the ls had been. No longer trapped but armed with a means of escape he tapped
with his newfound tools on the
words that held him
captive moving them
down with every
And he found he could tap
himself a way out
from inside this maze
of his own making.
Outside there was light and endless potential. Outside was the freedom to see everything for the very first time. Here he could be without having been.
Here he became now.