A Dart Thrown Blindfolded

There’s a phenomenon known to pilots and sailors in which, while navigating for some time, sea and sky become the same blend of blue to the eye. Depth perception becomes altered and without proper equipment, the plane or ship becomes a dart thrown blindfolded at the horizon. It’s as confusing as it is mesmerizing; relaxing as it is dangerous.

This unfolded blue-scape manages to escape time, rules set unto man; it has embedded limitations without horizon. A strange place, this phenomenon is the place of Uz, one where enemies are given authority by gods. A place of meetings between the body and soul, between mind and trust, deliberation and implementation: strange things. To sailors and pilots, at this place, it all boils down to this blue.

What do you find here about yourself? When nothing is no longer known, where nowhere can be found. What do you say aloud when there is only one element left? Who among us are the gods? Enemies? Who among us is without Job?

We are always with change, we are always with Truth. The sun will rise, it will hang in the eternal sky and dip westward. Its leave will be temporary, but while gone we are left with the truth that dark brings. With this phenomenon, all truths become lost; except the absolute truth of overwhelming nothingness. Truth becomes figments of the mind; they are meaningless and tossed overboard, lost in unexplored depths of inky black.

How can any bottled up truth save you from an unchanging field of vision? What can you utter to the wind, sun, and sky that would change your direction to better tides?

The sailor and pilot phenomena is a place where anything and nothing is possible. Nothing will be remembered here, at this spot. Nothing will be recorded. Nothing to gain. Nothing to lose. Anything possible. It is a place much larger than our senses; much larger than us. Much larger than anything we know. Only our navigators have seen it. Maybe there’s a reason for this. However, while there, only you exist. Only you are capable of sight. In the land of gods and enemies, the only voice left lies only behind
your
own
lips.

Advertisements

Author: antbrov

Fiction | Magical Realism | Introspective Write > Edit > Hate > Learn > Write...

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s