A prose poem by Wagner Hertzog
I remember waking up with a bizarre intensity in the middle of the night, but it did not take me too long to reconsider the mutation of my normal dreams in a quiet ordinary night. Inside my mind, this is something so extravagant, that I should participate in the conflagration of my own delights. I quickly tried to lie down and sit back and close my eyes, but then I started to feel shadows of disdain over the emptiness of my moral oceans of fraternity.
The days will pass me by indefinitely, with a strong moral support from the eternity of a nature that sleeps endlessly. Increasingly stronger, more sinister, more desperate and progressively more and more acute and intermittent, the storm in this ravenous world is something diluted upon the mindful horizon of my definitively persistent nature, as if someone was becoming invisible in the ruins of a colossal stature. Realizing that something morbid was happening in the gloom of night, I quickly got up, took a flashlight, and left the crystal house of the controversial fog of my life. Towards the hidden place of my intense immensity, I saw the fire palace where everything that had sustained the frailty of my somnolence immediately abandoned the pinnacle of mortality.
The days will pass me by indefinitely, with a strong moral support from the eternity of a nature that sleeps endlessly. Increasingly stronger, more sinister, more desperate and progressively more and more acute and intermittent, the storm in this ravenous world is something diluted upon the mindful horizon of my definitively persistent nature, as if someone was becoming invisible in the ruins of a colossal stature. Realizing that something morbid was happening in the gloom of night, I quickly got up, took a flashlight, and left the crystal house of the controversial fog of my life. Towards the hidden place of my intense immensity, I saw the fire palace where everything that had sustained the frailty of my somnolence immediately abandoned the pinnacle of mortality.
In the back of the house where I lived I saw one hundred eyes right in front of my fearful days of pleasurable respectability, an extensive demonstration of stupor, where all sorts of questionable men, with equally frightening and macabre designs, gathered and often spawned a corpse sometimes, but never before the sentimental fate of a genuine agony.
With fear and temerity, these days without reason aren’t the fulfillment of an ambiguous decline. I approached, not knowing exactly who or what I would face, and I was careful not to draw attention, illuminating what I have to see only a few meters in front of me, being very cautious with the darkness around me. But when I reached the empty streets of life at midnight, at first, I saw nothing. And then I started looking better, but after a few minutes I found nothing. I began to think then that I had arrived too late, and that I should start looking for an entirely new aspect of my interior soul, and then I began to think properly. When the prospective victim had managed to escape, I was trapped in the wrong place, and the fragile skylight that inexplicably disappeared drove me directly to the surreal palace of desire. If I had gone somewhere else, there had been no attempted plausibility to stand before the true aphorism of my belief. I saw someone screaming for no clear motive.
With fear and temerity, these days without reason aren’t the fulfillment of an ambiguous decline. I approached, not knowing exactly who or what I would face, and I was careful not to draw attention, illuminating what I have to see only a few meters in front of me, being very cautious with the darkness around me. But when I reached the empty streets of life at midnight, at first, I saw nothing. And then I started looking better, but after a few minutes I found nothing. I began to think then that I had arrived too late, and that I should start looking for an entirely new aspect of my interior soul, and then I began to think properly. When the prospective victim had managed to escape, I was trapped in the wrong place, and the fragile skylight that inexplicably disappeared drove me directly to the surreal palace of desire. If I had gone somewhere else, there had been no attempted plausibility to stand before the true aphorism of my belief. I saw someone screaming for no clear motive.
I left, relatively pleased to think that the garden of justice where I used to walk had probably been given to invisible thoughts. Then, I walked towards the house, going directly to get out of the journey of my interior solitude, and then I heard someone behind the predatory confinement of my hostility. I could have heard something being taken away, evidently looking with killing eyes behind my back. One more afternoon of empty shadows was enough to create this fulfilling perception of agony. When I heard the sky of torment looking upon my omniscient anxiety, I suddenly knew everything was over. My heart quickened, my mouth dried, an unrepentant and overwhelming anxiety washed over me. Someone was obviously trying to deprive me from the distant path of my lugubrious shadows. Not knowing what to do, not knowing whether to run or to confront this lancinating creation of reason, I decided to sleep over the horizon of my distant planets.
I'm pretty sure I left my reality unconscious, but I do not know for how long. I couldn’t feel, nor speak, nor see. After some relatively disoriented time and wondering what kind of ponderable omniscience I should start over my personal condolences, my senses all reacted, without any practical results. After a while, I began to suspect that some substance must have been injected into me, for I felt relatively lethargic. Soon I began to feel a draft of cold air, and I realized that I must be in some sort of basement. Then someone must have turned on the light, for I saw a chink of light under the blindfold that I should be wearing.
I'm pretty sure I left my reality unconscious, but I do not know for how long. I couldn’t feel, nor speak, nor see. After some relatively disoriented time and wondering what kind of ponderable omniscience I should start over my personal condolences, my senses all reacted, without any practical results. After a while, I began to suspect that some substance must have been injected into me, for I felt relatively lethargic. Soon I began to feel a draft of cold air, and I realized that I must be in some sort of basement. Then someone must have turned on the light, for I saw a chink of light under the blindfold that I should be wearing.
