Deterioration of the Mind to the Animal in You (Me)

It’s climbing over mountains, passing through them, weaving, rooted structures very much a part of the solid ground you walk on, you live on, you breathe on. You are running, pumping your legs, it doesn’t have to be in a rhythm, it just matters that you run. Run, continuously, over and over again, as fast as you can, as long as you can, no limit is better than another. Make sure to breathe as you run, explore. It’s not a leisurely job: this is the run and journey of your life, of you, of all you’re made up of. Whatever created you, and whatever you created in yourself, are equally and deliberately of significance.

This is a jam, but unlike the ones you experience in nightclubs. This is a dark jam, and you’re not sure where it’s heading, where you’re going, what is happening as it intermixes with your pure being, as it integrates with your soul. There cannot just be good and there cannot just be evil: both must thrive, playing off of the other, a constant yet not always violent battle inside of you. They know you better than you know yourself or can even guess. They wake you up to the coldness of life and the warmth of being.

Crazed, juggling, motions. Excites me and makes me sick to my stomach all at once. Reminds me of who I am inside, my primal animal, where I can release and let go and bring all of the different voices and identities around me into one. We are one, wretched, beautiful, hungry. Always reaching. Always wanting more. The bad and the good. The primitive and the elegant, which are actually one and the same. I scream as the beat thrums in my heart and accelerates. Too much, too much and yet not enough. Chaos, order, I need it all. Sex, drugs, sobriety, I need it all. All, all, ALL.

Copyright © Alyssa Cokinis 2015. All rights reserved.

This resulted from a prompt about Arthur Rimbaud and his idea of a derangement of the senses, resulting from his synesthesia. We had to see music and write in a stream-of-consciousness style. What I saw wasn’t exactly colors but more flashing images in my head. These flashing images were more like ideas or themes in my mind. 

Published by Alyssa C.

Writer & theatre artist from Iowa. Currently quarantining in the Pacific Northwest. MA in Intercultural Communication Studies from Shanghai Theatre Academy (expected 2021).

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