miércoles, 18 de junio de 2014

Rythm


I lounged by the pool. A depression-fueled gravity pulled me into the plastic chair and the gentle caress of the wind massaged my body, trying to wipe some of the heavy grief that had accumulated inside me. A heavy blanket of gray coated the sky, announcing rainfall that would prove murderous for the occasion, but that didn’t stop the hotel guests from making that space their own – regular people who, sunk in the context of the humid jungle, had their heads inside a dream.

The sounds travelled to my ear guided by the copper strings. The gentle, tickle-inducing vibration of the basses, the powerful thump of the drums, vocals of all pitches racing into my eardrums and slamming full force into the brain.

I saw birds gliding across the clouds majestically, flickering around the shadow of the hidden sun like oversized moths nearby a giant, cosmic light bulb. People moved. My ears sealed off to their activities, all I could see where their silhouettes diving into the water and launching waves of translucent water into the air, their lips moving, the old ones walking around with rainbow colored drinks on their hands, the young ones in riveting frenzy in and around the liquid mirage.

Suddenly the world became particles, a trillion tiny units in movement and interaction. A gust of wind made some palm trees dance in a corner in my pupils. In another corner, a soaked couple shared a tender kiss poolside, their atoms fused into one giant cluster. Droplets of water flew all over the place, hurled into the sky by the reverberations caused by those swimming below.

Everything was movement, everything was color: the lush greens of the wilderness bordering my sight, the rusty red of bricks, the glistening turquoise in the center of everything, moving spots of all hues of the spectrum - those same hues that had become so fashionable in the threads of swimwear. The gray of the sky dominated the top corner of my corneas, its sameness interrupted by swerving black dots. Those black dots were birds. Tiny as they seemed, the entire world must have seemed minuscule to their perception, and their colors thousands of times more densely packed than mine.

As I became more absorbed in the continuum of a reality that had been stripped of all sheer meaning and became nothing but a mass of sensations, those movements - those alterations in the particles, started to lose their randomness. A loud sequence of drums in my ear synchronized perfectly with yet another human bomb sending a huge cloud of H2O over the boarders of the pool. A soft piano stroking my temporal lobe accompanied palm trees’ soft ballet as guided by the breeze. A lenient harp seemed to trigger the movements of the birds, who changed directions and made stunts in the air as G turned into D. Energetic children running through fast choruses, sluggish elders sitting in their chairs through the stance of harmonic bridges. Groups of people retreating as one song finished, other groups of people arriving at the scene as another one commenced.

Sound and sight became one, and my body became the mezzanine that looked towards the spectacle in awe. Ballads, pop songs, hard rock, operatic grandness and subtle harmonies all gave the world different, equally perfect moods.

Every single rhythm fit into that giant puzzle that burst with livelihood.

Every tint, every movement, every fragment of existence was amplified by the decibels that took over my body, possessed me, allowed me to float while still chained to the floor.

Every part of me became just another set of particles, dancing, partying and wobbling to the melody.

Every corporeal hurdle was left behind as I let my mind dance.

And then everything danced. And under the resonance of the tune inside my ears, everything became one flawless microcosm.

“Battery drained, shutting down” read a digitally rendered sign. There was the sound of silence. And I went back to being just a bored, depressed teenager lounging beside a hotel pool. 

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